


Love At The Christmas Eve Table

by Browneyesparker



Series: Love At [1]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst, Christmas, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Holiday, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-03 00:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 25,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browneyesparker/pseuds/Browneyesparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teresa Lisbon and Patrick Jane are childhood friends, spending every Christmas Eve together. As they grow older their friendship grows into something more, but the road to love is never smooth. And it might take a whole lot of Christmas Eves before they actually get together. Rated T. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 First Meetings**

“I cannot believe you talked me into this Amy,” Alex Jane complained as they walked across the street to a beautiful Victorian house with a white picket fence. “If there’s anything I hate more in this world it’s a cop!”

“Virgil Minelli is a _homicide_ detective. He’s not going to arrest you because he doesn’t trust a Carni” Amy Green replied. “Besides, you’re doing it for Patrick. He hasn’t been himself ever since you guys left the carnival. I think Teresa Lisbon will be just the thing to lift his spirits.”

Alex looked over his shoulder at his nine-year-old son, who was dragging his feet and staring at the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I don’t want him to get too comfortable here or make too many friends. As soon as I get things squared away with the guys at the carnival, we’re out of here. I hate the thought of staying here long term.”

“I know,” Amy soothed. “But right now, you have to make the best of your situation. One dinner with my neighbors on Christmas Eve isn’t going to kill you.”

“But a roomful of cops and morally upright people just might,” Alex replied.

“You’re so good at playing make believe, why don’t you pretend that you’re one of them? Just for tonight, I’m sure you’d have the whole neighborhood sold.”

“Remind me why I put up with you again.”

“Because of Gemma,” Amy answered, knocking on the Minelli’s front door. “You always did what Gemma wanted, out of every single woman you ever met, my sister had you whipped from the day she first batted her eyelashes at you.”

The door flew open and a petite, brunette woman with emerald guys stepped outside. “Amy, I thought I heard your voice!”

“Hey Ruth!” Amy replied, smiling at her and patting her tummy. “How’s baby Lisbon number four coming along?”

“He’s coming. We’re all a little anxious for him to make his presence known to the world,” Ruth answered, looking over Amy’s shoulder at Alex. “I see that you’ve brought company.”

“This is Alex Jane, he was my sister’s lover once upon a time ago. And the beautiful blonde angel dragging his feet is my nephew, Patrick. He’s Alex and Gemma’s love child,” Amy said. “Do you think Virgil and May will mind that I brought them along for dinner? Patrick hasn’t been himself the past couple of weeks and I was hoping Teresa might be able to lift his spirits a little.”

“You know very well May and Minelli don’t mind having extra guests,” Ruth told her. “In fact, they plan for it. Teresa’s in the living room watching White Christmas and coloring with some of the other kids. Why don’t you go and introduce Alex to everyone, I’ll take care of Patrick.”

“Sounds good,” Amy answered, turning around. “Patrick if you don’t hurry up, we’re going to be forced to leave you outside in the cold!”

Patrick broke into a run, never looking up from the snowy pavement for a second. When he reached the porch, he took the stairs two at a time and ducked into the house without saying anything.

“Is everything okay?” Ruth asked, glancing at Amy.

“We think he’s just a little lonely right now,” Amy answered. “He’s been removed from everything he’s ever known the past nine years and placed into a world that is so strange to him.”

“I’m trying to get home as soon as possible,” Alex added. “It’s just taking a little longer than I expected.”

Ruth nodded and stepped aside from the door, giving full access to the warm house. “Well, why don’t you two come on in and I’ll see if I can work a little Christmas magic?”

“Thank you Ruth,” Amy said as she unbuttoned her coat and went inside with Alex at her heels.

“Why don’t you go and take Alex to the den,” Ruth suggested. “Minelli has Paul and the rest of the men in there with cigars he had imported for the occasion.”

Amy looked at Alex and smiled at him playfully. “What do you think Al? Do you think you can handle a few hours of normal conversation?”

Alex smiled at her just as playfully. “You know very well that I can.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Ruth said to Amy before going over to Patrick and holding out her hand. “Hey sweetie, I’m Mrs. Lisbon. Why don’t you come with me to the living room and meet my daughter, Teresa? I’m sure you’re going to like her.”

“Okay,” Patrick muttered, taking her hand reluctantly.

**.**

“Teresa would you come here please!” Ruth called over the din of “Minstrel Show” and a half-a-dozen kids talking loudly about what they hoped Santa would bring for them that night. 

A pretty little girl sucking on a candy cane and wearing a crushed velvet red dress with sparkly white tights and black Mary Jane’s hopped up from the floor and came over. “Yes mommy?” she asked, pushing her mass of dark curls away from her face.

“Teresa honey, there’s somebody I would love for you to meet,” Ruth said. “Teresa, this is Amy’s nephew Patrick Jane. Patrick, this is my daughter Teresa Lisbon.”

“It’s nice to meet you Patrick,” Teresa said through her mouthful of candy cane.

Patrick lifted his head and looked her straight in her large green eyes, for a moment he didn’t know what to say, aside from his friend Angela Ruskins, he had never seen anybody quite as cute as the girl standing in front of him. And then he put on his most charming smile, the one that had bought him countless Happy Meals and extended a small hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said.

“Do you want to color with me until dinner’s ready?” Teresa asked, not letting go of his hand. “I’ll share my coloring book and crayons with you.”

Patrick looked at Ruth, who nodded encouragingly and then back at Teresa. “Sure,” he answered.

“I’ll just leave you two to it then,” Ruth said. “I’ll be in the kitchen helping May if you need anything Teresa.”

“Okay mom,” Teresa replied going back to her space on the floor. She flopped down on her stomach and patted the space beside her. “Come on Patrick.”

He joined her and she pushed her box of crayons towards him as she flipped through the pages of her holiday coloring book, looking for two uncolored pages that were side-by-side while she hummed a Christmas song under her breath.

“How old are you Teresa?” Patrick asked abruptly.

Teresa stopped humming and looked at him. “I’m going to be seven in April, how old are you?”

“I’m nine,” Patrick answered, picking up a red crayon and starting to color in Santa’s hat.  

“Ten,” Teresa repeated. “That’s pretty old.”

“Meh, I’m still young enough to be your friend,” Patrick answered.

Teresa’s eyes widened. “You want to be friends?”

“Sure, who else am I going to play to while I stay here?” He replied, moving from the hat to the reindeer, his eyes never leaving the page.

“Good,” she said. “Because I _really_ would like to be friends—”

“Okay kids!” May interrupted, coming into the living room and clapping her hands. “Dinner is on the table! Follow me into the dining room!”

“Come on,” Teresa said, tugging on the collar of Patrick’s red sweater vest. “You can sit beside me at the kid’s table.”

“The kid’s table?

Teresa sighed. “All the kids have to sit at a _special_ table until we’re eighteen. It’s the rule.”

Patrick observed her. “And you’re all about following the rules, aren’t you?”

“The rules are there for a reason,” Teresa replied primly.

“Don’t you ever just want to break the rules?” Patrick asked

Teresa looked appalled at the thought. “And lose my TV privileges for a week?”

Patrick laughed as he took a seat beside her at the kid’s table and propped his elbows up. “TV privileges, what are those?”

“Don’t you have TV where you live?” Teresa asked, dropping her napkin into her lap.

“Well, of course. Most of the time we don’t get very good reception, or the electricity in the trailer is on the fritz.”

“You poor thing,” Teresa clucked sympathetically.

“Who’s your new friend Teresa?” Virgil Minelli asked, interrupting their conversation as he squatted down between them.

“Agent Minelli, this is Patrick Jane. . . he’s Miss Green’s nephew. Patrick this is Agent Minelli, he owns this his house.”

“Pleasure to meet you son,” Minelli said, shaking his hand.

“You too sir,” Patrick replied politely, pasting on another one of his best charming smiles.

“Is Teresa treating you well?”

“She’s nice,” Patrick answered, giving the young girl a sideways glance.

“Good, good. Well, I won’t bother you two any longer. Enjoy your meal,” Minelli said.

“Thank you,” Teresa and Patrick said together before digging into the meals that were in front of them.

**.**

A few hours later, the Lisbons, Alex, and Amy found Teresa and Patrick sprawled out underneath the Christmas tree, fast asleep with crayons scattered around them, their faces were bathed in white twinkle lights. 

“See,” Amy whispered, nudging Alex. “I told you that they’d be good for each other.”

**TBC. . .**

**.**


	2. Reunions and Surfboards

_One Year Later_

“Teresa, why don’t you come and help me cut out the gingerbread men?” May asked, coming out of the kitchen and wiping her hands on her apron. “If we can get you occupied, he’ll be here before you know it.”

“I’m coming,” Teresa sighed as she hopped off the chair and followed her back into the kitchen.

“Wash your hands,” May directed as she pulled an extra apron out of the drawer and then dragged a chair up to the counter.

“Taking over my job Reese, are you?” Ruth asked from the rocking chair where she held the newest edition to the Lisbon household.

“May says that it might help the time go by faster,” Teresa answered as she climbed up on the chair and May put her hair up in a loose ponytail.

“So, our good friend Patrick Jane hasn’t arrived yet then?”

“No! And he promised he’d be here for Christmas Eve!” Teresa said, trying to get the postcard out of her dress pocket, but failing because the apron was in her way.

“I’m sure that he’ll be here,” May soothed, giving her a gingerbread man cookie cutter. “The party doesn’t start until six ‘o clock and it’s only _five_ right now.”

Teresa sighed again and rammed the cookie cutter into the dark brown dough. “I don’t understand why I can’t just go over to Miss Green’s house and see him!”

“They might be busy,” Ruth answered. “Or they might be out doing something right now. Be _patient_ Teresa, you’ll see him soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for _weeks_!” Teresa muttered, stabbing into the dough again.

“Well, you’re _honestly_ going to see him soon. Now enough back talk,” Ruth said, giving her a look of motherly disapproval. “And be careful you don’t cut into gingerbread men that you’ve already cut out.”

Twenty minutes later, Teresa carefully laid the last gingerbread man on a cookie sheet. “Okay, it’s done.”

“Thank you,” May said, whisking the cookie sheets off of the counter and popping them into the oven. She pulled out some frosting and different bottles of red and green sprinkles. “Now why don’t you help me decorate the sugar cookies?”

“Okay,” Lisbon agreed, glancing quickly out at the front door. But the only people who had come in was the Ramsey family and their bratty kids.

“Just wait a couple more minutes,” May said, handing her a butter knife. “You know how much Amy likes to be here to help us finish up the dinner preparations.”

Teresa and May had frosted half the plate of cookies when the front door opened and Amy came in with Patrick by her side.

“They’re _finally_ here!!!” Teresa shouted, throwing her knife down and jumping off the chair. She ran as fast she could and threw her arms around Patrick’s neck.

“Hey Teresa,” Patrick said, returning her hug and smiling into her hair. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too!” Teresa squealed, jumping up and down and taking him with her. “I’ve been waiting for you _all_ day long!”

“I know but Aunt Amy said that you were probably busy and that I couldn’t just barge in on you,” Patrick replied, rolling his eyes.

Teresa giggled and stepped back, taking Patrick in. He was wearing a miniature three piece suit that made him look infinitely older than his ten years and his hair was longer than it had been the year before. But he was still one of the cutest little boys she had ever seen.

“What is it?” Patrick asked when he realized that she had been studying him for a while.  

“I just wanted to make sure you looked like I remembered,” Teresa answered.

“It’s the same old me,” Patrick told her. “I’m just a little older.”

“Patrick,” Amy interjected. “Don’t you have a gift for Teresa?”

“Oh, right!” Patrick replied, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a box wrapped up in red-and-white striped paper. “Merry Christmas Reese. Auntie Amy helped me wrap it, if she didn’t you would have just gotten a wad of tissue paper.”

Teresa’s mouth formed an ‘o’ and her eyes widened. “Oh Patrick. . . but I don’t have anything for you.”

He shrugged and pushed the present into her hands. “ _You’re_ my present this year,” he answered.

“Oh. . .” she said again, trailing off and looking at Amy. 

“Well, are you going to open it or not?” Patrick asked anxiously.

Teresa nodded and carefully pulled the paper off of the box. She opened the lid and pulled out a wooden surfboard a little longer than the length of her hand and painted in a brilliant shade of emerald green with her name on it in loopy cursive.

“A guy at the beach in Siesta Key, Florida hand carves surfboards from driftwood,” Patrick explained to her. “I bought that for you with the money from my first own show at the carnival. I’ve been carrying it around for five months, I would have sent it to you earlier but Sam told me that it might break in the mail—”

Teresa shook her head. “I _love_ it, thank you Patrick.”

“You’re welcome,” Patrick replied, smiling at her.

Lisbon carefully put the surfboard in her pocket and took his hand. “Come and see my new baby brother! He’s in the kitchen.”

“Okay,” Patrick replied, letting her drag him across the hallway and into the kitchen that smelled like gingerbread and brown sugar ham.

“Why hello Patrick,” Ruth said, smiling at the pair when they skidded to a stop in front of the rocking chair.

“Hello Mrs. Lisbon,”  Patrick answered politely, looking down at the little bundle in her arms. “Is this your new brother?”

“Yes,” Teresa said proudly, tossing her dark curls over her shoulders. “This is Joseph Martin Lisbon, isn’t he the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen?”

“He has your nose,” Patrick observed.

Teresa wrinkled her own nose. “That’s what _everyone_ tells me,” she replied.

May came over and put her hands on their shoulders. “Patrick, Teresa! Why don’t you too go in the living room with the other kids? We have a lot of work to do in here, I wouldn’t want anyone to run over the two of you.”

“Okay,” Teresa agreed cheerfully. “Come on Patrick, I think the other kids are watching _White Christmas_.”

Patrick nodded. “Okay. It was nice to see you again Mrs. Lisbon.”

“You too,” Ruth answered. “You guys have fun.”

**.**

They sat cross-legged on the couch, facing each other and watching _White Christmas_ out of the corners of their eyes.

He told her all about his travels even though he had sent her a postcard from every state they had stopped in and she told him about everything in between, she hadn’t been able to write him because being in the carnival, he didn’t have a permanent address. By the time dinner was served, they had both forgotten that they had been apart for a good seven months they were right back to where they were when he had left Chicago the evening before Memorial day.

“How long are you here for?” Teresa asked later that night as they hid in a corner by the tree and stuffed themselves with cookies and May’s award winning pecan pie.

“Just a couple of weeks,” Patrick replied, picking the cinnamon dot off of Rudolph’s nose. “The gang decided to stay on in Florida for the winter and dad doesn’t want to be away from them for a long time. It was a fight even getting here for the holidays; I wouldn’t be here at all if it hadn’t been for Sam.”

“Oh. . .” Teresa trailed off. “I wish you could stay until May again.”

“I do too,” Patrick agreed wistfully. “But at the same time I’ll be happy to get back to the carnival. They’re like my family, you know.”

“Especially Angela Ruskins,” Teresa said with a hint of girlish jealousy in her tone.

Patrick nodded. “Especially Angela. . .”

“You must really like her,” Teresa commented, her plate of treats forgotten as she watched Patrick’s face for a sign that would confirm her worries.

“Don’t worry Reese,” Patrick said, punching her arm playfully. “I like you too.”

Teresa smiled faintly, but wasn’t the least bit encouraged by his words. She might be only seven, but she was old enough to tell the difference when a boy liked a girl and when a boy _really_ liked a girl. And Patrick Jane _really_ liked Angela Ruskins. He talked about her the same way her older cousin talked about _his_ girlfriend.

She sighed and pushed a gingerbread man around on her plate.

“Teresa, are you okay?” Patrick checked.

“I’m fine,” she lied, her cheeks growing hot. “Do you want to go and do something else? I’m getting bored.”

“Sure,” Patrick answered, not believing her for a second. But his father had told him _never_ to push a woman, no matter how old she was. He got to his feet and then helped her up. “What do you want to do?”

Teresa shrugged. “Whatever, we could go and color if you want.”

Patrick didn’t exactly want to color, he hadn’t come all the way to Chicago to color with a bunch of kids that didn’t really care about him. But he knew Teresa was upset and he didn’t want to bother her anymore than he already had. So, if she wanted to color then color, he would. He was all about keeping the peace.

**.**

“She likes you, you know.”

Patrick looked up at Amy and frowned. “But she’s only _seven_ , she can’t like me. Not like _that_.”

Amy shrugged and took his hand as they crossed the street. “You never know, it might just be a phase. When I was seven, I thought that I was going to marry Russ Carter when I grew up.”

“Russ _who_?” Patrick asked, looking over his shoulder at the Lisbon family. Teresa was trudging behind her parents looking slightly dejected.

“It doesn’t matter,” Amy answered. “My point is Teresa _likes_ you. Out of all the boys in the world she could have had her first crush on, you’re the lucky boy. Not the cute boy she sees every day at school and gives her one of his extra chocolate chip cookies. _You_ , be careful Paddy.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes and looked back at Teresa again. “Some random boy shares his cookies with her at school every day?”

“He’s not just some random boy, he’s _cute_ and they see each other every day.”

“Really?” Patrick asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. “You’re just trying to make me jealous.”

Amy laughed. “You’re just like your father. He can always tell when I’m bluffing too.”

“She has to know that I really like her though,” Patrick said. “Aside from you, she’s the only one who made me feel welcome here last year. I wrote her postcards twice a week, and I came all this way just to see her. She’s special to me, she has to know she’s special to me.”

“I dunno,” Amy answered. “But if you want to come back and see her next year, I think that you’d better go and remind her. You know, just in case.”

Patrick looked over his shoulder again and then turned around. “Wait for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Amy said, watching as he went off running to catch up with the Lisbons before they reached their house.

He grabbed Teresa by the shoulders to stop her and then he leaned in to whisper something in her ear. She smiled widely and then hugged him with all her might. After a second, she released him and tilted her head to look at him. Patrick returned her smile and threw his arms around her, pulling her in for another hug.

Even from far away, Amy could tell the younger girl’s eyes were sparkling. 

**TBC. . .**

 


	3. Snow Angels, Hot Chocolate, & Christmas Blessings

_One Year Later (again)_

Teresa sighed blissfully, dropped down into the snow, and spread out her arms. “Come on Patrick, I’ll teach you how to make snow angels!” she called, her voice breaking through the quiet Christmas Eve air.

Patrick smirked down at her. “My, my Teresa, I do think you’re breaking a rule.”

She sat up and glared at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I don’t think your mother would be too happy if she knew you were making snow angels in your _nice_ new Christmas dress,” Patrick answered.

“Shut up!” Teresa replied, capping him in the knee with the heel of her snow boot.

“Ouch!” Patrick howled and stumbled. “What was _that_ for!?”

This time it was Teresa’s turn to smirk. “Oh nothing,” she said sweetly.

Patrick sighed and got down next to her. His bare hand found her gloved one and he traced patterns on the palm of her hand. The snow angels were all but forgotten as they stared at the sun setting in brilliant shades of cotton candy pinks and wintery blues.

“It’s so beautiful,” Teresa murmured.

“Yeah,” Patrick agreed, turning his head to look at her. “It really is, in all my travels I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“But I’m sure you’ve seen some really pretty things,” Teresa said, practical at even eight.

“Of course,” Patrick replied, a charmer at the ripe old age of eleven. “But I haven’t seen them with _you_.”

“Angela’s there though,” Teresa muttered.

“Not all the time,” he told her. “Believe it or not, most of the time it’s just my father and me. And even then, I’m lucky if my father wants to take me places. A lot of the time, I see the sights with Sam and Pete. Pete’s the one who slips me extra change for your postcards, Sam helps me pick out the prettiest postcards. Wherever I am, whatever great landmark or ocean I am seeing, I wish I could show them to you because you’re here.”

Teresa’s smile lit up just as brightly as the Minelli’s Christmas tree. “Really?”

Patrick nodded and tightened his grip on her hand. “Really,” he whispered, not taking his eyes away from her once.

**.**

They laid in the snow until it was cold and dark and they were shivering from the wetness that was seeping through their clothes, and Minelli had to come collect them for dinner. The older man shook his head and laughed when he saw them.

“Come on, let’s go get the two of you warmed up or you’ll catch your death of cold,” he said, lifting them both up at the same time and directing them to the house. He brought them to the living room and sat them down directly in front of the fireplace. “I’m going to get your dinner and some hot chocolate to warm you up; you can eat in here tonight.”

“Thank you,” Teresa said, peeling her gloves and coat off.

Minelli looked them over. “Maybe I’ll have to bring you both a change of clothes too. You’re completely soaked. I don’t know what you were thinking, lying in the snow without snowsuits. You know better than that Teresa.”

Teresa shrugged in reply.

“It was my idea,” Patrick piped in, glancing at the young girl by his side. “I haven’t ever gotten to make a snow angel before and Reese wanted to show me how to do it. I’m afraid we got distracted by the sunset.”

“Well, don’t let it happen again,” Minelli said, going to the record player in the corner and putting some music on, the first strains of Nat King Cole’s version of “The Christmas Song” filled the air, he turned to look at them. “Now the two of you sit tight, I’ll be right back with a change of clothes and your dinner.”

A few minutes later, Amy came in with two man sized sweatshirts and knee-length gym socks. “Virgil’s still gathering up your dinner and making the hot chocolate. But he asked me to come and help you change because you were lying in the snow or something like that?”

“Reese was teaching me how to make snow angels,” Patrick replied, yanking his suit jacket off and unbuttoning his vest.

“Ah,” Amy said, tossing him a gray sweatshirt and a pair of socks. “And did you learn how to make them properly?”

“No, we kind of got sidetracked,” Teresa answered.

 “Sidetracked,” Amy repeated, coming over to Teresa and unzipping her dress. She turned her around and slipped the navy _police_ sweatshirt over her head; she pulled her hair out and beamed. “Well don’t you just look adorable Reese? So, tell me what was it exactly that sidetracked the two of you?”

“The sunset,” Patrick replied, pulling one gym sock up his leg. “I haven’t really ever seen a winter sunset before.”

Amy shook her head and began to braid Teresa’s damp hair. “The two of you are such little adults, it’s crazy.”

“Here’s the hot chocolate,” May said, coming into the living room with two steaming mugs on a tray. “Virgil should be here with your dinner soon, in the meantime _drink_ this, the two of you must be freezing! Just don’t tell the other kids we let you in here with food and drink, we wouldn’t want them to be jealous.”

Teresa laughed. “Yeah.”

“Well, we have to get back to the dining room,” May told them. “Make sure you don’t spill anything, Virgil just got the carpets cleaned.”

“Yes ma’am,” Teresa answered through a mouthful of whipped cream and marshmallows.

After one more round of cautions, Amy and May left Patrick and Teresa by themselves. They sat in silence, drinking their hot chocolate and listening to Christmas music. After a few minutes, Minelli came in with two plates heaped with food.

“Here you go,” he said, setting the plates down on the hearth. “Be careful not to spill anything, I just got the carpets cleaned.”

“We know,” Patrick answered, wiping some hot chocolate off of his upper lip. “Mrs. Minelli already told us.”

“Well then, enjoy!” Minelli said, winking at them. “I have to get back to the dining room or I’ll be getting an earful from May.”

Minelli disappeared and Patrick picked up his fork, he was just about to take a big bite of ham when Teresa slapped his wrist and gave him a disapproving look.

“What?” He asked, frowning at her.

“We have to bless the food _first_.”

Patrick looked confused and then incredulous. “ _Bless t_ he food!?”

“Like pray for it,” Teresa told him.

“We never “bless” the food at home,” Patrick said.

“Well, that’s because you live with a bunch of cons and sinners. Of course you don’t pray, they don’t care about their souls. All they care about is making money.”

“True,” Patrick conceded, putting down his fork. “Okay then, you can bless the food.”

Teresa took both his hands in hers and bowed her head. “Father thank you for this food that we are about to receive, please bless it to our bodies, thank you that Patrick is here with me tonight and that we’re friends. And thank you for this season, for giving us a reason to celebrate. Amen.”

She let go of his hands and crossed herself, while Patrick followed along, nailing the motions exactly.

“Amen,” he echoed.

Teresa smiled at him and rolled her baggy sweatshirt sleeves up. “Okay, _now_ we can eat.”

 “Good!” Patrick exclaimed, picking up his fork and digging into his mashed potatoes with vigor. “I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely _starving_.”

**TBC. . .**


	4. Christmas Eve Friends And Snowmen

**Chapter 4 Christmas Eve Friends & Snowmen**

_One Year Later_

“Have you ever built a snowman before?” Teresa asked Patrick as they put their coats on and trudged outside.

Patrick shook his head. “No. But then again, there aren’t a lot of things I’ve done in the snow. We usually stay in Florida during the winter. It’s never cold enough for snow.”

“Come on,” Teresa said, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the porch steps. “I’ll teach you how to build one then.”

Patrick took in her boots, red corduroy pants and the reindeer turtleneck peeking out of her coat. “I see your mom dressed you to actually play outside this year.”

Teresa shrugged. “Or she just let me decide what to wear by myself. I am nine, you know.”

“You’re still young,” he pointed out. “I’m already in double-digits and you’re still in single numbers.”

“I’ll be _ten_ on my next birthday,” she reminded him as she bent down and picked up some snow, she worked it into a ball and chucked it at Patrick’s midsection and laughed when his eyes widened. “Let me guess, you’ve never had a snowball fight before either?”

“I think you know the answer to _that_ question,” Patrick answered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at her with mock crossness.

“Come on,” Teresa said, “Let’s start building that snowman.”

Patrick was a fast learner; he got the hang of making snowmen almost immediately. When they had built a whole family of them, they snuck into the house and stole three carrots for their noses and coal for their faces. Their pockets bulging with the pilfered goods, they ran back outside and completed their work. When they were finished, they stood back and admired their masterpieces.

“I have some of the most fun with you Teresa,” Patrick told her, smiling at her the way an older brother would smile at his sister. “I wish we could be more than Christmas Eve friends.”

“I think we are,” Teresa replied, clasping her hands together. “You still send postcards once a week and now we’ve been able to talk when you call Amy. Besides, I think you’d probably get sick of me if you lived here all the time. You are older than me. You’d probably be running around with other twelve-year-old boys and pretending you didn’t know me. Besides, if you lived here then you wouldn’t ever get to see Angela. And I know you’d hate that.”

Patrick didn’t say anything, he knew that Angela was probably still a sore spot for young, sweet Teresa and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. So, he changed the subject.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go inside, it’s getting dark. Dinner should be almost ready by now.”

And it was. When they had removed their coats and boots, the party was just sitting down to the feast May had been preparing all day. They took their seats at the kid’s table and joined hands with the other children while Paul Lisbon blessed the meal with a simple prayer.

After the amens had been said, the whole room erupted into conversation as they started in on their dinner. Patrick entertained the kids with stories about life in the carnival while discouraging them from running away to join the proverbial circus at the same time just in case a life without rules or school sounded good to them.

 When dinner was over, he volunteered himself and Teresa to help with the cleanup. They spent the rest of the evening carrying little stacks of plates from the dining room to the kitchen and drying dishes under Amy’s watchful eye. After their tasks were completed, they escaped to their special corner near the Christmas tree in the living room.

“I have something for you,” Teresa said, taking a string out of her pocket. “I made it during arts & crafts when I was at camp over summer vacation.”

Patrick frowned, he had hated the two weeks she had been away at camp. All forms of contact had been cut off, including his weekly postcards. And a small part of him had been so nervous she would find some other boy that she liked better than him.

“What is it?” He asked.

“A friendship bracelet,” Teresa answered. “All the other girls made them for each other, but I wanted to make one for you. And since I couldn’t send it to you because I didn’t know your address, I’ve kept it until now. I know it isn’t much but—”

“It’s okay,” Patrick interjected as he struggled to tie it around his wrist. “It’s perfect because you made it for me.”

Teresa smiled and held up one thin wrist. “I made one for myself in matching colors.”

Patrick smiled at her in return. “Do you mind giving me a hand putting mine on?”

Teresa nodded and loosely tied off the ends of the bracelet. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Patrick said, admiring the way it looked on him. “I have something for you too.”

Teresa’s eyes widened. “Oh. . .”

Patrick pulled a box out of his jacket pocket and shoved it towards her. “Merry Christmas Reese.”

“Oh. . .” she repeated again.

“Open it!” He urged, a look of excitement in his eyes.

“Okay,” she agreed, not taking her own eyes away from him for a second as she pulled the ribbon from the box and lifted the lid.

“Do you like it?” Patrick asked. “You told me that you liked elephants. . . I thought maybe—”

Teresa looked down at her lap and gasped. “They’re glass elephant!”

“It belonged to Sam when was a little girl. I told her all about you and she wanted you to have it because you’re a good friend.”

“Thank her for me, okay?” Teresa asked. “And thank _you_ for bringing them all this way for me.”

“No problem,” Patrick answered, smiling at her. “I’ll let Sam know that you liked them.”

“Thanks—”

“Teresa!” Ruth called as she came into the living room. “We have to get going or we’ll be late for mass.”

“Coming!” Teresa hollered back, she turned to Patrick. “I have to go. I’ll see you later this week?”

Patrick nodded. “Merry Christmas Teresa.”

“Merry Christmas Patrick,” she echoed as she crawled out from underneath the tree and ran to join her mother.

**TBC. . .**

**.**


	5. Youngsters & Teenagers

“Don’t look so gloomy Teresa,” Ruth admonished as she peeled potatoes for May. “I’m sure that he’ll still like you even though you’re only ten and he’s thirteen.”

“That’s right,” May agreed as she checked on the ham. “When you’re best friends, a little thing like age doesn’t matter. Now cheer up Reese, Patrick didn’t come all this way just to be greeted by a gloomy friend.”

Teresa sighed and played with a pecan that hadn’t made it into May’s pie. “I’m only ten though and his ‘friend’ Angela is thirteen just like him. She probably even has her ears pierced.”

Ruth laughed. “Oh Reese.”

“Well, it’s true!” Teresa insisted. “ _All_ of the older girls at school have _their_ ears pierced.”

“I’m sure that’s very trying for you, but—”

“Hey Teresa, where are you!?”

“It looks like Patrick’s here and he’s anxious to find you,” Ruth said. “Why don’t you go and see him?”

Teresa crossed her arms stubbornly and didn’t move from the bar stool.

“She’s in the kitchen with us, Patrick!” May called, rolling her eyes at the stubborn girl sitting in front of her.

Patrick came through the door with a big smile. “There you are! What are you doing hiding out in here?”

“Nothing really,” Teresa answered vaguely, dropping the pecan she had been playing with. “I was just helping out with things. . .”

“Oh. . .” Patrick trailed off and looked around the kitchen. “Hi Mrs. Lisbon, Mrs. Minelli, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Patrick,” May and Ruth echoed together.

“Teresa, why don’t you go and hang out with Patrick?” Ruth suggested.

“Okay,” Teresa replied, reluctantly as she slid off the chair. “Come on Patrick, we can go and talk outside if you’d like.”

“Sure!” Patrick agreed cheerfully.

“I just need to go and get my coat,” Teresa said, brushing past him.

“What’s bothering her?” Patrick asked as he glanced at Ruth.

“I think it has something to do with your respective ages,” Ruth answered, putting the pot of potatoes on the stove and turning on the heat.

Patrick frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Well, you’re thirteen now and she’s only ten. In her mind, you’re way older than her and she’s afraid that’s going to affect your friendship.”

Patrick looked a bit surprised. “Nothing’s going to change just because I’m a teenager now. I’ve tried to keep things as normal as possible the past few months, I’ve sent her postcards the same as usual and I’ve called her every other week. . .”

Ruth shrugged. “I know. . . and I’m sure she knows that too. I think she’s just waiting to _hear_ it from you.”

He nodded. “Don’t worry Mrs. Lisbon, I’ll go and fix everything. By tonight, it’ll all be back to normal again.”

**.**

They made their way to the backyard, Patrick cleaned the snow off one of the swing sets and motioned for Teresa to sit down on it. When she did, he started to push her gently.

“Hey Teresa,” Patrick said slowly. “I wanted to tell you something.”

“What?” Teresa asked a wave of panic washed over her as half-a-dozen scenarios filled her head. She was glad she couldn’t see him, glad _he_ couldn’t see her. She didn’t want to see the boyish sympathy in his beautiful green eyes, she didn’t want him to see the disappointment in _her’s_.

“You know how I turned thirteen this year.”

“Yes,” Teresa answered, gripping the swing set a tightly, her pulse started to race and her stomach knotted.

“And you know how you’re still ten?” Patrick continued.

“Yes.”

“Well, I just thought you should know that our ages don’t really matter to me. You’re still going to be my best friend. Even when you’re thirteen and I’m sixteen, you’ll still be my best friend. And when you’re sixteen and still sitting at the kid’s table, I’ll be right there next to you because friends stick together, no matter what.”

“Are you sure?” Teresa asked her fears turning to hope all in the blink of an eye.

“Am I sure!?” Patrick repeated. “ _Of course_ I’m sure! I love you Teresa and I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“I-I love you too,” Teresa answered, blushing slightly at the girlish admission. At _his_ admission, it was the first time a boy aside from a family member had told her that he loved her, she wasn’t quite sure how to react.

He stopped pushing her and leaned in to brush a kiss on her cheek. “Now that we’ve got that all settled, are we good again?”

“Yes,” Teresa answered, releasing a shuddery breath. “We’re good again.”

Patrick grinned and pulled her off of the swing. “Good. Come on, I’ll race you back to the house.”

He let her win and watched in delight as her cheeks flush with pleasure while she waited for him to run the final steps to the porch. If she knew that he had allowed her to win, she didn’t say anything to him about it. She just reached for his hand and took the stairs two at a time with him in tow.

Before she opened the door, she turned around and looked at him earnestly. “Promise me something else.”

“Anything,” Patrick replied sincerely.

“Promise me that you’ll keep coming back no matter what happens. Please. . .”

Patrick nodded. “I promise that no matter what happens, no matter where we end up, or who we end up with that we’ll still be celebrating Christmas Eve together when we’re old and gray and we have grandchildren of our own.”

“Me too,” Teresa said, pulling off her mitten and extending her pinky towards him.

He hooked his pinky through her’s and shook it gently, solemnly watching her the whole time. They stood there for a few moments; their breath came out in puffs while they pumped their pinkies up and down over and over again. And then, Teresa got embarrassed and broke the spell that had seemingly been cast over then. She released his pinky and dropped her hand to her side, her eyes never leaving his.

Her pulse skittered and she wondered if it was natural to have grownup feelings at such a young age. She hadn’t ever felt this way about anybody in all of her ten years of being alive. Even her feelings for her first-grade ‘husband’ paled in comparison to the way she was feeling right now. She would have traded every package of Doritos and Ring Pops

“I. . . I should go and see if Mrs. Minelli needs my help in the kitchen,” she whispered.

“Do you want me to come with you? I bet that I’d make an excellent cookie cutter.”

Teresa nodded, her heart fluttering even more. “Sure.”

He continued to chat with her while they entered the house and shed their coats, but Teresa was too far gone to pay attention or to really engage in conversation with him. Visions of future Christmases and Patrick were dancing in her head.

She prayed that one day he would love her in return.

**TBC. . .**


	6. Chapter 6

“That’s pretty,” Patrick commented, touching Teresa’s cross necklace. “Is it new?”

“My mom gave it to me for my birthday this year,” Teresa answered, smiling fondly at the piece of jewelry. “All the girls on her side of the family get one when they turn eleven.”

Patrick dropped the necklace and sighed as he turned his head away from her. “Do you think God would forgive somebody like me, Teresa?”

Teresa frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I did something this summer. Something I shouldn’t have.”

“I-I don’t understand Patrick. What did you do?”

“You’ll hate me if I tell you,” Patrick whispered. “You’re so good Teresa and I’m. . . I’m so bad.”

Teresa put her hand on his knee. “Tell me about it Patrick, maybe I can help.”

“It happened this summer, after one of my magic shows I did. My father had me do a physic reading of sorts with this wealthy woman who had come to the carnival. She paid me a bunch of money and I told her everything she wanted to hear, because I knew if I didn’t then we wouldn’t get the money. And we really needed the money at the time.”

“Oh Patrick. . .”

“I’ve felt guilty about it ever since,” Patrick said, hanging his head in despair.

“Oh Patrick. . .” Teresa repeated, rubbing his knee gently. “You _poor_ thing, I’m sorry you had to do that.”

 They sat in silence for a while, Patrick with his head down and Teresa comforting him as best she could when suddenly an idea occurred to her.

“Patrick,” she whispered. “We should sneak out and go to church to pray. God will forgive you for what you’ve done, you just need to confess your sins.”

“But I don’t know how to pray,” Patrick told her. “Nobody ever taught me how, not the way they taught _you_.”

“It’s okay!” Teresa told him grabbing his hand and leading him out from behind the tree. “I’ll teach you, it’s really easy. Come on! Let’s go before they call us in for dinner.”

She peeked around the corner to make sure the hallway was clear, and then she made a mad dash for their coats. They dressed quickly and then Teresa opened the door ever so quietly, making Patrick think that she had snuck out of the house before.  

**.**

Teresa pushed open the heavy door that led into the church and took his hand. She dragged him down the aisle and lit a candle. Then she squeezed her eyes shut, Patrick could almost hear the prayer flowing out of her mind, it surrounded him, gave him a sense of peace. After a minute, she crossed herself and then opened her eyes.

“Your turn Patrick,” she whispered.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered back.

“Light a candle,” Teresa told him.

“Okay,” Patrick replied, lighting the candles that she directed him to and then looking at her expectantly.

“Repeat after me,” she said. “I confess to almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do; and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin, all the [angels](http://www.catholic.org/saints/angel.php) and saints, and you, my brothers and sisters, to pray for me to the [Lord](http://www.catholic.org/encyclopedia/view.php?id=5217) our God.”

Patrick copied her perfectly, not messing up on one single syllable. “I confess to almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done and what I have failed to do; and I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin, all the angels and the saints, and you my brothers and my sisters, to pray for me to the Lord our God.”

“How do you feel?” Teresa asked.

“I don’t feel any different,” Patrick answered.

Teresa pressed her lips together and touched her cross thoughtfully.  “Then just tell Him what’s on your heart.”

Patrick released a deep breath. “I don’t know how to do that either.”

“It’s easy. Talk to Him the way you’d talk to me or Sam or your Aunt Amy,” Teresa answered.

“Just like I talk to _you_?” Patrick repeated.

“Exactly like you talk to me, just do it with a little more reverence.”

“How—”

“Father in Heaven,” Teresa prompted, closing her eyes again and taking his hand.

“Father in Heaven. . .”

The confession poured out of him then and by the time they whispered _amens_ , they were both crying a little bit. Patrick laughed at how silly they might look to somebody passing by them; they were two kids sitting in church on Christmas Eve with tears running down their cheeks. She laughed too when he told her about it, wiping at his face with the sleeve of her glittery red sweater.

“Teresa Lisbon! What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

The pair turned around and saw Ruth staring at them with her arms folded across her chest, she was trying to look stern but failing miserably.

“Oh. . .” Teresa trailed off and smiled. “Hi mom.”

“Teresa, don’t play cute with me. Just answer my question, how did you get here?”

“We walked,” she answered.

“And _why_ are you here?”

“We came to pray,” Teresa replied vaguely. “How’d you find out where we were anyway?”

“Father ‘O Flannery called me and told me you were here,” Ruth said. “Tell me, did you think you’d really get away with sneaking out of the house? Did you really think we wouldn’t realize you were gone?”

“Maybe,” Teresa answered. “Are we in trouble?”

“A little bit, yes.”

“I’m really sorry we snuck out without telling you,” Teresa told her as she got up off of her knees and brushed herself off.

“Me too,” Patrick echoed.

Ruth sighed. “It’s fine. At least the two of you are okay. Come on, let’s get you back to the Minelli’s and feed you some dinner.”

“Thanks for not saying anything to her about why we were really here,” Patrick whispered to Teresa as they followed Ruth outside and to the car.

“Always,” Teresa answered, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

**TBC. . .**


	7. Comfort & Joy

“Where is she?” Patrick asked as he came into the kitchen, still clad in his navy blue pea coat and plaid scarf.

“She’s still at home,” May answered, knowing exactly who she was talking about. “I don’t know if they’re going to come tonight. Things have been difficult since Ruth passed—”

“I’m going over there,” Patrick said, turning around and making a move to leave.

“Patrick, I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” May started.

“She needs me, Mrs. Minelli. She’s always there for me when I need her, it’s my turn. Just let me go, I’ll be back later.”

“Be careful Patrick,” May pleaded.

Patrick gave her an odd look. “I will be Mrs. Minelli. Don’t worry. I’ll just run over and get them and be right back. Okay?”

“Patrick—” Amy started, putting her hand on his shoulder.

Patrick laughed. “It’ll be okay Aunt Amy. I’ll be right back.”

Amy exchanged anxious looks with May and then relinquished her hold on him. “Okay, but please be careful.”

“Why is everybody telling me to be careful?” Patrick asked looking between May and Amy, his frown deepening. “What’s wrong?”

Amy sighed. “Oh Patrick.”

“Is something the matter with Teresa?” He asked, his pulse skipping a beat.

“We’re not sure,” Amy answered. “We think—”

She didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence; Patrick had left the house through the back door and was running across the yard as fast as he could.

He didn’t stop running until he got to her house, he knocked on the door, his heart beating even faster than before. All of the worst case scenarios were playing in his head while he waited for her to answer the door, and then she did. His heart gave a great lurch of relief and he pulled her into his arms without saying anything.

She buried her head in his chest and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “You’re here. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I was so worried Reese, my aunt and Mrs. Minelli said. . .” he trailed off and took her in, brushing her hair away from her face. “How are you Reese? How are you really?”

She sighed. “I’m okay, I guess.”

Patrick shook his head. “No you’re not. I can tell you’re not okay.”

“My mom died,” Teresa answered, her voice sounded hallow to her own ears. “My mom died and now I have to try and figure things out by myself. Dad hasn’t been much help since the funeral and my brothers are scared. I have to be strong Patrick, if I’m not then everything’s going to fall apart. I just know it will.”

Patrick hugged her again. “Oh Teresa. . . I wish I could be here for you all the time, you’re too young to carry this all by yourself.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not here all the time,” Teresa replied, pulling away and pushing her hair away from her face.

Patrick felt a chill. “Teresa, is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“No,” Teresa said defensively. “Not really.”

“I’ve gotten really good at reading people,” Patrick told her. “I can tell when somebody’s lying. And everything about you screams that you’re hiding something from me.”

Teresa stepped away from him and wrapped her arms around her waist defensively. “It’s nothing Patrick, I swear! Let’s just go to the Minelli’s for Christmas Eve dinner, okay?”

“Teresa—”

“I’m going to get my brothers,” Teresa said. “Just wait here, okay?”

Patrick sighed, slightly exasperated by her distance. “Okay.”

A few minutes later, she was back with her siblings in tow. “We have to be back before midnight. That’s the time my father should be getting home from wherever he’s hiding out today. We need to be in bed before. . .” she trailed off. “Come on boys, we’re going to have dinner at Aunt May and Uncle Virgil’s house, okay?”

“Okay Reese,” James agreed, adjusting his scarf. “Hi Patrick.”

“Hi Jimmy,” Patrick replied, smiling at the younger boy and messing up his dark hair. “How are you?”

Jimmy sighed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Patrick answered, finding Teresa’s eyes over his head. “Come on, I think dinner’s almost ready at the Minelli’s house. Why don’t we get going before we miss the blessing?”

He escorted the young Lisbon family across the street. When they were safely in the Minelli home, he helped Teresa get her brothers out of their coats and situated at the kid’s table. The whole time he kept watching her, looking for some insight into the secret she was keeping. And then it hit him when she pushed her hair away from her face slightly, there was a man-sized handprint creeping out of her turtleneck.

His stomach dropped and suddenly he wished he didn’t know the awful truth. He turned around and took a deep breath to compose himself. He couldn’t let her know what he’d seen, if she found out then she might just wind up pushing him away.

“Patrick?” She asked, interrupting his train of thought. “Is everything okay?”

He turned around and pasted on the smile that he only used for marks. “Everything’s just fine, I’m starving. What about you?”

Teresa shrugged. “I’m a little hungry, I guess.”

“Good,” Patrick said, pulling a chair out for her and ushering her into it. “You just wait here, save my seat and I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks,” Teresa answered, watching him disappear into the kitchen. She pulled her turtleneck collar up a little higher and prayed nobody would notice how tired she looked, like her teacher had before school had let out for Christmas break.

She didn’t think she could handle anymore speculation. She knew that she _couldn’t_ handle anybody knowing the truth about what really happened after her father came home, drunk and crazy with grief. If it hadn’t been for Patrick, she wouldn’t have shown up at all tonight. Their friends would have understood their absence. . . they would have written it off as grief, as it being too soon to celebrate the holidays. They would have tried to check in on them before the New Year had rolled around and that would have been the end of it.

For the first time since she’d laid eyes on Patrick Jane, she wished she had never met him. As soon as she thought it, she pushed the thought away. She didn’t know what she would have done without him or his postcards, or his weekly calls after her mother had died. On her worst days, she looked through all her postcards and thought that maybe all those years ago, God had known what He was doing by bringing the beautiful, young blonde boy into her life.

He returned a few minutes later, balancing a couple of plates in hands. “Here you go, your dinner my lady.”

Teresa smiled at him and pushed her hair away from her face again. “Thank you.”

He brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “You’re welcome.”

He plopped down in the seat beside her and watched her as she pushed her fork through the mashed potatoes, sampled a small bite, and then put the fork down.

“I thought you were hungry,” he said.

“Not really,” Teresa answered.

“You look so sad,” Patrick whispered so the kids around them wouldn’t hear what he was saying. He touched her cheek, her hair. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

_Bring her back, stop my dad  from attacking my brothers. . . from attacking me._

But she didn’t voice any of her thoughts to him; instead she forced herself to widen her smile. “You’re here, that’s enough for now,” she lied with the practiced ease she had developed since the abuse had first started, since her mother had been killed by a drunk driver.

Patrick nodded, not letting on for a second that he knew she wasn’t being truthful with him.

**.**

He walked them home way before midnight.

Teresa let the boys into the house and then stood with Patrick on the porch for a few minutes, chatting with him quietly. There was a different feeling between them now; they were both too old before their time. At fifteen, he was a conman in the making, selling his soul just so he could have dinner. At twelve, she had been thrust into the role of motherhood, of teaching and molding three young boys into mature men.

Patrick suddenly wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take off running to a simpler time, a simpler place. But he knew it was impossible, that wishing wouldn’t get them anywhere. So, he hugged her and bid her goodnight, wished her a Merry Christmas and trudged back to the Minelli’s house, a little more tired than he had been before the night had started out.

**TBC. . .**

**.**


	8. Coping & Healing

“You’re waiting for me!” Patrick said in surprise as he made his way up the walkway.

“I thought it would be a nice alternative to last year,” Teresa answered as she got to her feet and brushed the snow off her coat.

“It’s very nice,” Patrick admitted, smiling at her as he took her into his arms and hugged her. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Teresa murmured against his chest.

He didn’t believe her, but he knew better than to press her for more information. She would just calm up or change the subject, or worst become distance. Besides, he knew the truth just by looking at her. Things weren’t fine, they were even worse than they had been the year before. But she had a braver face, her eyes were stronger. She looked like a fighter and he felt his heart break a little bit.

She pulled away and looked at him. “How about you, how are you doing?”

“Good,” Patrick replied.

“Where’s Amy?” Teresa asked peering over his shoulder. “You two usually show up together.”

“My father wasn’t feeling well, so she stayed at home to look after him until he fell asleep. She’ll be here a little later.”

“Oh. . . I hope your father’s okay.”

“He’s fine,” Patrick answered. “He just had a little too much to drink on the plane ride over here.”

Teresa stiffened at his statement and he instantly knew it was the wrong thing to have told her. And then she released a deep, shuddery breath.  “Oh.”

“He’s fine though, Aunt Amy was plying him with a bucket of coffee when I left. She probably has him in bed by now, he’ll be completely fine by morning and he probably won’t drink a lot for a while either after this.”

“Oh. . .”

Patrick paused, realizing he wasn’t helping matters any by his rambling. He took her hand and dragged her to the porch. “Come on, Mrs. Minelli will probably need some help making dinner since Aunt Amy hasn’t showed up yet.”

“You’re probably right,” Teresa agreed, letting him take her up the steps two at a time.

 They went to the kitchen and May put them to work cutting out and frosting sugar cookies. Patrick was careful to keep the topic of conversation focused on only the most cheerful of subjects.  He wanted to see her smile again, wanted her to return to the girl that she had been when they had first met. She was in there somewhere, he just didn’t know how to get to her.

**.**

Later on, he walked her and her siblings back to their house because it was late and they didn’t have anybody to make sure they were safe.

“Could you come in for a little bit?” Teresa asked as she unlocked the door and ushered her brothers inside. “I-I don’t want to be alone tonight, and I don’t think my dad will be coming home. . . not for a few days anyways—”

“Of course I’ll come in,” Patrick interjected.

She smiled at him. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

He helped her get the boys ready for bed, assuring the youngest ones that Santa would indeed come as soon as they were asleep. He promised he wouldn’t eat all the cookies they had made especially for Christmas Eve and that he would be back to see them the next day. When they were sound asleep, he helped Teresa lay out the few presents she had been able to purchase on her meager baby-sitter’s salary.

“Do you want some hot chocolate?” Teresa asked as she stood back and took the stark living room in.

“Sure,” Patrick answered, nibbling on a Rudolph sugar cookie.

She slipped into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two large mugs of steaming hot chocolate with a generous helping of whipped cream floating on top of the hot beverage. She motioned for him to follow her and settled down on the love seat. He sat down beside her and took his drink from her.

Patrick raised the mug to her in a toast. “Thank you.”

“It isn’t really cheery, is it?” Teresa said, looking around the living room again and sighing. “I did try and make it a real Christmas this year, for the sake of my brothers. But dad hates any reminder of what we lost and mom loved Christmas. . . he destroyed all the Christmas decorations. . .”

“Teresa. . .”

She started to cry. “I just want everything to be back to normal.”

“I know,” Patrick soothed, he took away her mug and then put it, along with his, on the floor so he could hug her. “I know. I do too.”

He held her until her cries had quieted and she had fallen asleep on his chest. He didn’t dare move her because he was afraid that she would wake up if he did, and he wanted her to have some peace just for a little bit.  Eventually, he fell asleep too.

When Patrick woke up, it was morning and the sun was streaming in through the windows. Teresa was gone, but she had covered him with a blanket. He stretched then threw the blanket off to go search for her. She was in the kitchen, whipping eggs and humming Christmas songs under her breath.

She smiled when she saw him looking at her. “Good morning,” she said, dunking a piece of bread in the egg mixture.

“Good morning,” Patrick replied. “Merry Christmas Teresa.”

“Merry Christmas,” Teresa answered as she placed the French toast on the griddle. “I bet a whole bunch of people are looking for you right now.”

“Eh,” Patrick said, waving the comment off as he came into the kitchen. “It isn’t the first time it’s happened and it won’t be the last.”

“Are you sure your dad won’t be worried?” Teresa asked.

“Nope, he’s used to me doing my own thing. He probably knows I’m with you right now. You’re the main reason I come here every Christmas.”

“Oh. . .” Teresa trailed off. “But what about your aunt? She has to be worried about you by now.”

“Not likely, my dad probably has her worries all squared away by now. He has that kind of influence on her.”

“Just the same, don’t you think you should call and tell her you’re with me?”

“Since when did you become such a little mother?” Patrick teased, going to the phone and dialing the number to his aunt’s house anyways.

“Since I’ve had to start taking care of three boys,” Teresa answered.

Patrick smiled. “Believe it or not, being bossy suits you.”

Teresa smirked at him and flipped the French toast. “Hahaha, very funny.”

“Seriously, you’ll be in a position of authority one day,” Patrick said. “Hi, Aunt Amy? Yes, it’s Patrick. Yes, I’m with Teresa. I’ll be home sometime this afternoon. Before dinner? Sure. Yeah, I’ll see if they want to come. Yeah, I love you too. See you later. Okay, ‘bye. Happy now, Reese?”

“You didn’t have to call,” she answered, sliding the finished French toast on a plate before starting a new one.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Patrick asked.

“No,” Teresa answered. “I was thinking about ordering a pizza or Chinese food.”

“Perfect! My aunt wants you and the boys to have dinner with us. How does that sound?”

“I’m not sure. . . I hate to impose—”

“You wouldn’t be imposing,” Patrick rushed to assure her. “Please, come. I hate to think about you and your brothers sitting in this gloomy house and eating pizza on Christmas day. Please—”

“Okay, okay. You convinced me!” Teresa interrupted. “Would you please go and get my brothers? They’re in the den watching cartoons.”

“Sure,” Patrick answered.

“Thank you.”

A few minutes later, they were all gathered around the table and Teresa was serving up breakfast and hot chocolate. When everybody had their food, she took a seat at the head of the table and told everybody to join hands. Then she bowed her head and offered up a simple prayer to God to thank Him for the food, her family, the birth of Christ, and for Patrick.

Patrick watched her carefully, wondering how she could still believe in somebody who had taken away her mother and changed her world forever. If it had been him in the same situation, he probably would have renounced God forever. But she seemed to have more faith than she ever had before. It caught him off-guard and filled him with unspeakable love for the young teenager holding his hand.

**TBC. . .**

.


	9. Coffee & Pecan Pie

_One year later_

Patrick pretended she didn’t have a fresh scar above her eye or a thin row of stitches on her slender fingers. Teresa pretended she didn’t know that he knew while they lingered over May’s famous pecan pie and cups of decaf coffee long after the kids had finished their dinners and disappeared into the living room to watch _White Christmas_ while they colored just like they did every year.

He made her laugh while he regaled her with stories about the carnival and it felt good, she hadn’t laughed in a long time. Her life had become a long, sad series of protecting her brothers from their father’s drunken wrath, trips to the hospital, lies about their injuries and nights spent trying not to cry herself to sleep.

This Christmas Eve with him was a gentle reprieve from her life. It was something she had been looking forward to for the past six months without even knowing it. She watched him as he tenderly caressed her injured fingers, never taking his eyes away from her face, and her heart skipped a beat. The young girl crush she had had on him when they first met still hadn’t disappeared; in fact it had gotten stronger the older she had gotten.

She knew it was silly to feel this way about him, she could tell with the three year age gap that he looked at her more like a little sister than anything else. That he pitied her for her loss of her mother and her childhood all in one great swoop. She knew his heart ached for her and the abuse she suffered at the hands of her father, but it didn’t add up to the kind of love you saw in the movies or on television shows. It didn’t make for the kind of love in the trashy romances that her friends read behind their text books at lunch. Whenever she looked in his eyes, she only saw friendship and sibling love, and a beautiful girl named Angela.

“You look a little lost,” Patrick said, stopping halfway through his story about Pete and an elephant named Daisy.

“Sorry,” Teresa replied, taking a sip of coffee. “I was just thinking. . .”

“Thinking about what exactly?”

“Just thinking,” Teresa answered, toying with her pie. “I have a lot to think about, you know.”

Patrick nodded and took a sip of his own coffee. “Yes, I know. So, where’s your father tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Teresa replied off-handedly. “I haven’t seen him since. . . since—”

“This?” Patrick asked bluntly as he lifted her hand.

She blushed. “Yes. But he’ll come home and apologize, he always does.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Patrick said almost bitingly. “He’ll just do it again. And he’ll keep on doing it until you or one of your brothers di—”

“Just stop it, okay!?” Teresa snapped. “I’ve already played and replayed every possible scenario in my head. It is my first thought every morning when I wake up and my last thought before I go to bed, I dream about it and sometimes I find myself ready to ask Virgil and May if they would take care of the boys for me—”

“Teresa, _please_ don’t talk like that!” Patrick pleaded. “Don’t you know it’s the same way for me though!? I’m constantly worried about you. Every time I call Aunt Amy, I have to literally brace myself. I have to prepare myself not to hear your voice, to hear that something horrible happened to you. I always want to be here for you, to protect you from everything and everyone that will ever hurt you! It kills me that I can’t.”

Teresa looked shocked at his admission. “How long have you felt this way?” she finally asked.

“The first time I realized your father had abused you two years ago,” Patrick answered.

“There was no way you could know that! I was wearing a turtleneck—”

“Yeah, well they don’t call me the Boy Wonder for nothing Reese. I observe things that the everyday person can’t. You knew this about me, I’ve told you about my gift a dozen times already.”

Teresa looked at him like she was just seeing him for the first time. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew then?”

“You didn’t want me to know,” he said quietly.

She stood up. “I can’t be here right now.”

“Oh come on Teresa,” Patrick protested. “It isn’t like I’m going to run off and tell child protective services what’s happening. I know how important it is to you to keep your family together. Besides, I’m only seventeen; they would _never_ listen to me even if I was going to report your father for abuse!”

“You’re right they wouldn’t listen to you,” Teresa answered. “And even if you were older than _seventeen_ , they still wouldn’t listen to you. Because my father is an outstanding member of the community, he’s the beloved fire chief. He loves his children so much, he’d never hurt them. I tried confiding in somebody _once_ and they told me I was just trying to cause trouble!”

“May and Aunt Amy think—”

“Of course they do,” Teresa said. “There are certain people who rightly suspect the truth, but they can’t do anything about it. Either because they’re too scared or because they don’t have enough proof. I’ve done a good job at hiding it Patrick, I don’t need some _Boy Wonder_ to come along and ruin everything I’ve worked for these past two years!”

“But I’m _not_ going to—”

He didn’t get to finish what he was saying though, because she had disappeared from sight.

**.**

He found her in their old spot behind the Christmas tree, her knees drawn up to her chest. He sighed, “Teresa, I’m too tall to crawl under there now. Why don’t you come out and we can talk about this like the mature people that we both are?”

“I’m not in the mood to talk to you right now,” she answered.

Patrick rolled his eyes and got on his stomach. He crawled under the tree and looked at her. “We’re getting a little too old for this, don’t you think?”

“A little too old for _what_?” Teresa retorted.

“To be hiding behind the Christmas tree,” Patrick replied.

“Go away Patrick!”

He spread his hands in the air. “Truce! Truce! Listen, I’m sorry for what happened back there. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I would never do anything to hurt you Reese, you _know_ that.”

“I know,” Teresa answered quietly. “I know. . . it’s just that—”

Patrick yelped. “Ouch! What was _that_ for Kat!?”

The little girl he had addressed as Kat laughed hysterically before running away.

“What happened?” Teresa asked, smirking at him.

“Katherine Cutter just _kicked_ me in the side!” Patrick replied. “Don’t you _dare_ start laughing Teresa Lisbon, this isn’t funny!”

“It’s pretty funny,” Teresa replied, her gloomy mood disappearing completely.

“Come on,” Patrick said, latching onto her hand and tugging on her. “Stop hiding out behind the tree and come hang out with me before you have to go home. We can talk about whatever you’d like, okay?”

“Okay,” she finally agreed, waiting him to slide out from underneath the tree before following suite. She put a hand on his shoulder when they were both standing. “Listen, I’m sorry for—”

“You’re fine,” Patrick interjected. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I know that. . . I just shouldn’t have said anything, let’s put just put it behind us and go finish our pie.”

**.**

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Patrick asked later that evening.

“We’re going to midnight mass tonight,” Teresa answered. “You could come with us if you’d like. . .”

Patrick nodded. “If you really want me to. . .”

“I’d love it if you came with us,” Teresa said sincerely as their eyes met. “I’m sure my brothers would too, and then afterwards you can walk us home. And maybe, if it was fine with your father and with your aunt, you could spend the night just like you did last year.”

“I think I _could_ manage that,” Patrick replied, smiling at her.

**TBC. .**


	10. The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing

“I didn’t know that Virgil liked music so much,” Patrick commented as he flipped through records while Teresa leaned over his shoulder, her dark hair brushing his cheek, the smell of her new perfume tickled his nose and tried to tell him to wake up and realize the young woman that she was becoming.

“Oh yeah, he’s a record collector from way back,” Teresa replied, her voice breathy in his ear. “He has some of the most valuable records in the state. There have been collectors who’ve come from all over and have been willing to pay thousands for them, but he always tells them no.”

“I wonder why,” Patrick mused, picking a record and going over to the record player in the corner of the room.

Teresa shrugged. “He says the music is worth more than the money.”

“More power to him then,” Patrick said, replacing the jazzy Christmas music with his own selection.

An old R&B song started to play loudly as he came over to her, she was so enticing in her first real little black dress and heels that he couldn’t _help_ but put his arm around her waist and start to dance with her. Teresa giggled and placed her hand on his shoulder, he waltzed her out of the den and into the dining room, where the adults were lingering over after-dinner brandy and spicy mixed nuts.

“May, would you like to dance with me?” Virgil asked when he saw the pair of teenagers dancing and laughing.

May blushed like a school girl, but she accepted her husband’s hand and got up, allowing him to pull her close in a slow dance that defined their years of intimacy and closeness. Soon, everybody had joined them, including Alex and Amy.

Patrick swept Teresa away to the hall because it had gotten overcrowded in the dining room. When it was just the two of them again, she looked into his eyes with a pounding heart and wondered if he was able to read her mind, she wondered if he could see the love and adoration that was all for him. The laughter faded on both of their lips and he embraced her close to his heart, their waltz slowed to a sway, to a slow dance that could have spoken volumes if they were anyone else.

For a moment, she wondered if he was going to try and kiss her. She knew that if he did, she wouldn’t mind. If he did, she was going to give it back to him a million times over. But the record came to an abrupt end and their dance did too.

Patrick pulled away, looking scared and confused. Teresa smiled at him, but she was just as at a loss for words as he was.

“I should go and check on my brothers,” she finally said, blushing slightly.

“I’m sure—”

She shot him a look, the one that Angela gave him whenever she wanted him to leave her alone and then she disappeared. Patrick waited all of a minute before following her. He found her sitting on the staircase, watching _White Christmas_ from far away; she smiled when she saw him.

“Do you think I’m being silly?” She asked.

“No,” Patrick replied, sitting down beside her. “I do want to know why you’re hiding from me though. We’re the same as we’ve always been, aren’t we? Two good friends. . .”

“Two _best_ friends,” Teresa corrected, looking at him seriously. “Always best friends, no matter what.”

“No matter what,” he agreed.

She touched his knee. “Come on, I know where May is hiding the dessert. Maybe we could sneak a few cookies and go for a walk.”

“It’s snowing out though!” Patrick protested.

“So? Where’s your sense of adventure? Walking in the first snowfall of the year is _fun_.”

“And cold,” Patrick added, following her. “It’s very, very cold.”

“We’ve played outside in the snow lots of times over the years,” Teresa said, laughing at him and shaking her head. 

“But that was before I knew any better.”

“You’re turning into a regular California surfing dude, aren’t you? You probably have salt water in your veins by now.”

“A little sun and sand never hurt anybody,” Patrick answered, smirking at her.

“And neither does a little bit of snow and cold air,” Teresa replied, retrieving a plate of cookies from the pantry. “Come on, if you really bundle up it won’t matter how nippy it is outside.”

“Aunt Amy drove us over here in her car because of the snow, so all I wore was this jacket.”

“I’m sure Virgil has something in the hall closet you could borrow,” Teresa suggested, handing him the plate and opening the closet door, she pawed through the coats for a second and then retrieved an extra-large pea coat. “See? I told you that he’d have something you could wear.”

“That _thing_ probably hasn’t seen daylight since he lost all that weight nine years ago,” Patrick said.

“Then it deserves a day out,” Teresa told him. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Reese—”

She shoved it in his arms. “Put it on, _no_ arguments!”

“Are you always so bossy?” Patrick asked. “Take the cookies, I can’t put this coat on with my hands full.”

“I’m not bossy,” Teresa said. “I’m just commanding there’s a difference, you know.”

“Not much,” Patrick replied, shoving his arms in the sleeves and buttoning up. “Well, what do you think?”

Teresa burst out laughing. “I think I have something at home that’ll fit you a lot better than Virgil’s old pea coat. Come on!”

They retrieved her father’s old coat from her house, and then they walked until their hands and feet were numb from the cold and they were on a sugar high from eating too many cookies. It was easy to persuade her to go back to the Minelli’s house and to get warmed up by the fire. They ignored the looks from the adults and their questions. Patrick got the context better than anybody, but he didn’t know how to tell them that there wasn’t anything going on between them.

**TBC. . .**

.


	11. The Kid's Table & Sweet Sixteen Kisses

She was even more beautiful than the year before. Her hair was cut in a pixie and she was wearing just the slightest hint of lipstick. Patrick swallowed hard and walked the last few steps to her, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention.

Teresa whirled around and smiled at him. “You’re here!”

“I’m here,” Patrick answered. “You look—”

“The same as I did last year?” She finished for him. “It’s the same dress from last Christmas Eve.”

Patrick shook his head. “No. You look amazing. . . you look _older_. I can’t—”

Teresa laughed merrily. “Thank you Patrick. You know you don’t look so bad yourself.”

He took her in from head-to-toe and shook his head again. She was a tiny bit triumphant that for the first time in their friendship she had rendered him speechless.

“Teresa, I—”

“Patrick!” May said, coming out from the kitchen. “There you are, are you game to come and help me finish making gingerbread men cookies?”

“Sure,” Patrick answered, tearing his gaze away from Teresa and following May back into the kitchen.

“Wait a second,” Teresa called out as she followed them. “I want to help too! You have aprons don’t you May?”

 “Yes,” May replied. “I have lots of aprons. Come on.”

**.**

May observed the pair, keenly aware of the new chemistry between the two friends, the shift in their relationship. She knew that it would probably take years for them to acknowledge whatever it was that had sprung up between them, but in the end it would be worth it. In the end, they’d be the perfect couple. They would be the ones that lasted; they had the perfect foundation of friendship and an intimacy most people their age didn’t even know existed.

She smiled to herself as she checked on the ham. She wished she could play matchmaker, wished that somehow she could bring these two souls together sooner than later. She hated leaving things in the hands of Fate, hated leaving things in the hands of two teenagers who didn’t really know what they wanted or what they needed from life.

“Is everything okay May?” Patrick asked. “You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time. . .”

“I’m fine,” May assured him with a smile. “It looks like you’re done with the cookies though.”

“Yeah,” Teresa answered, wiping her floury hands on her apron. “Do you have anything else for us to do?”

“Everything’s almost done,” May replied. “All that’s left to do is put the cookies and the pies in the oven. But I can do that by myself. Go and have a nice visit, dinner will be ready soon.”

“Oh!” Teresa exclaimed, smiling at Patrick. “You’re old enough to sit at the adult table now.”

“Meh,” Patrick said, waving her off. “I was old enough to sit at the adult table _last_ year too. I’d much prefer sitting with you until _you’re_ old enough to sit with me. I’m afraid that I’ll get bored without you.”

Both Teresa and May knew this wasn’t true. A place at the adult table was a coveted spot; every single kid who had ever attended the Minelli Christmas Eve party couldn’t _wait_ until they were invited to join the grownups.

“You’ll be 21 by the time _I_ get to the adult table,” Teresa reminded him.

“So?”

“Well—”

 _“So?”_ Patrick repeated.

Teresa sighed and shrugged. “Okay, if you still want to sit at the kid’s table then it’s your own choice.”

“I know.”

“Now that we’ve gotten that all taken care of, you two can scoot!” May told them, shooing them out of the kitchen. “Go on now, get out of here!”

“Come on,” Teresa said, taking Patrick by the hand. “I’ve eaten enough dinners here to know that May’s being serious, she doesn’t want us underfoot right now.”

“Where should we go then?” Patrick asked. “We’re definitely too big to sit behind the Christmas tree and since dinner is practically finished, so I don’t think we can wonder off for one of our treks in the snow right now.”

“Come on, we can call the best spots at the kid’s table then!” Teresa replied, pulling him out of the kitchen.

**.**

Patrick chose the chair at the head of the table and she chose the one on his left. They flopped down in their seats and waited for the other kids to show up.

After a few minutes, Teresa noticed that Patrick was watching her.

“What?” She asked, running her fingers through her dark hair. “Do I have something on my face? Or. . .”

Patrick shook his head. “No, I was just wondering. . .”

Teresa frowned. “Wondering what?”

“You’re sweet sixteen now,” Patrick said. “Have you even been kissed yet?”

Teresa blushed. “Who wants to know?”

“Me,” Patrick answered.

“I haven’t been kissed yet,” Teresa told him quietly.

“Good,” Patrick replied, leaning in towards her.

Teresa’s pulse sped up slightly, and then before she even had a chance to react, he was cupping her cheek, stroking it, looking her directly in the eyes. It seemed like the whole world had stopped still and they were the only two who existed.

“Patrick. . .” she whispered.

He kissed her then, their eyes both fluttered shut. Her first kiss, it was the sweetest thing she had ever experienced. She was _so_ glad that she had waited to let somebody that she loved kiss her and that she hadn’t kissed every boy that came her way, like most of her girlfriends had.

After a few seconds he pulled away and she drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her rapidly beating heart. They stared at each other, unblinking. . . unsure of what to do or say next. Teresa wished that he would say something, _anything_. The silence was deafening, for the first time since she had known him it was uncomfortable.

“Teresa. . .” he finally said.

“I know,” she replied.

In that moment, she knew that the kiss was just a kiss. There wasn’t anything romantic behind it, no hidden motive or declaration of love. They were just friends and somewhere in the world was Angela, the real object of Patrick’s affections.

“I care about you; I care about you a lot. . . I love you even—”

“I know.” Teresa repeated, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

Patrick looked surprised. “For what?”

“For giving me the best first kiss a girl could ever ask for,” she replied. “I’m just glad that it was with _you_ and not some random boy at school. They wouldn’t have made it half as special as you did.”

Patrick smiled at her in return. “I’m glad that I could make it so special. That’s all I ever wanted for you, you deserve the best.”

Teresa sighed; her heart had only ever felt this heavy after her mother had died and the first time her father had hurt her. She had always known that he would choose Angela but she’d never really believed it. She had thought that maybe one day he would wake up and realize that she had always been there waiting. That she had been right in front of him the whole time.

She knew there was still time for it to happen. He had promised her forever and a lot could happen in that amount of time.

Teresa was certain that one day down the line they would truly fall in love. She just had to wait patiently for it to happen.

**TBC. . .**


	12. Angela Ruskins & Amy's Story

****

Teresa felt like her heart was going to break. Here she was in all her glory, the object of Patrick’s affection. Angela Ruskins. She was more beautiful than she could have ever imagined, but she treated Patrick like he didn’t exist, which was funny to the young brunette. Anybody with eyes could see that he was hung up on her.

“She has a boyfriend. Somebody she met this summer,” Patrick confided to her quietly as the two of them set the table for dinner. “But she wanted to come and meet you.”

Teresa looked surprised. “Meet me? _Why!?_ ”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because I talk about you all the time.”

“I’m sure you do,” Teresa said drily.

“Really,” Patrick assured her. “You’re a major part of my life, of course I talk about you a lot.”

“I bet that makes Angela jealous,” Teresa told him. “I bet that’s why she got a boyfriend, so she could have somebody to talk about all the time and make _you_ jealous.”

“Nope,” Patrick said. “She really likes this guy and he really likes her. I’m okay with that.”

“Because you’re sure that one day she’ll wake up and magically be in love with you?” Teresa asked, her heart pounding in her ears as she laid down the final napkin and set down silverware.

“I’m not so sure that will happen one day. I just want her to be happy.”

Teresa studied him hard. “Really? That’s all you want, for her to be happy?”

“You don’t believe me?”

 “Not for a second old friend,” Teresa answered. “I know you’ve been carrying a torch for her for a very long time now. I don’t know how you could possibly be happy for her.”

Patrick shrugged. “I just am I can’t explain it—”

“There you two are,” Angela said, coming in and interrupting him. “Does Mrs. Minelli always make you guys do chores on Christmas Eve?”

“We all do our part,” Teresa told her. “It makes it all come together faster. But don’t worry, you have at least another year until she’ll make you do any kind of work. The first year that you’re here, you’re a guest.”

“I might not come back next year,” Angela said. “Chicago is so cold and dreary; I don’t see why anybody would want to spend Christmas here. Besides, this is Patrick’s thing and you’re Patrick’s best friend. I just feel like I’m intruding.”

“Around here, there’s no such thing as intruding,” Teresa told her. “There’s room enough for everybody. The more the merrier.”

“Well, we’ll just see how things go this year. I really hate the cold.”

Teresa shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. I’m going to see if May needs any help in the kitchen.”

“I’m right behind you,” Patrick said.

“Oh Paddy, I’m sure Teresa has it under control!” Angela protested. “Why don’t you just let her go by herself? I hate being alone, I feel like a stranger in a strange land.”

Teresa gave Patrick a weary look. “You should just stay here, I’m sure May will understand if you do.”

“But—”

Teresa put her hand up. “Really _Paddy_ just stay here with Angela.”

**.**

“Where’s Patrick?” Amy asked when Teresa came into the kitchen.

“In the dining room with Angela,” Teresa answered, pulling an apron down from the peg and putting it on.

“Oh. . .” Amy trailed off. “She’s really something, isn’t she?”

“She’s beautiful,” Teresa said. “I can see why he fell in love with her. Why he’s in love with her. She’s the whole package, his true best friend.”

Amy sighed. “Oh boy, I knew her showing up wouldn’t be a good thing. I don’t understand why she had to come this year.”

“Apparently, she wanted to meet me.”

“Seize up the competition is more like it,” Amy muttered. “I bet that she can’t stand the fact that he has another best friend.”

“Patrick says she has a boyfriend,” Teresa said as she found the sugar cookie dough and started to roll it out.

Amy laughed. “I don’t think that matters. Look at you, you’re gorgeous. A boy could easily forget Angela Ruskins when you’re around. I’m not sure she likes that.”

“Why do you say that? She’s never seen me before in her life,” Teresa replied, choosing a reindeer cookie cutter and pressing it into the dough.

“I might have given Patrick a copy of the picture I took of the two of you together last year,” Amy told her. “He could have shown it to her; you know to put a face to a name.”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“I’m going to tell you a story Teresa,” Amy said, sitting down on the bar stool beside her. “Just listen, okay?”

Teresa frowned and nodded. “Okay.”

Amy sighed. “I haven’t told this story to anybody before now. When I was sixteen, I fell in love with a young man who came to Chicago with the first days of summer. He was so beautiful and so smart; he knew exactly who I was the first time he looked at me. We became the best of friends after spending a week together, and I was sure it was a matter of time before he fell in love with me. That our friendship would be the foundation to the best kind of love. But then, I made the mistake of introducing this young man to my twin sister Gemma.”

Teresa’s eyes widened. “Did you fall in love with—?”

“Yes,” Amy answered. “But somewhere between Cokes and pizza he fell for Gemma. After that I knew, I knew all I would ever be was Alex’s friend. And I wanted to hate her, I really did. But she was my sister and I could never quite bring myself to do it. Alex kept coming back every summer, and every summer he fell more and more in love with her. I almost thought he would settle down for her, but that never happened. He never was the settling down type, and Gemma was never the type to pick her whole entire life up for a man.”

“What happened?” Teresa asked quietly.

“When we were nineteen, Gemma got pregnant with Patrick. She didn’t want to have the baby but both Alex and I convinced her to keep him. He was three months old when she took her own life. Alex was devastated. I did my best to comfort him, but all he wanted was Gemma. He eventually healed and as you know, he still comes around about once a year. We’re still best friends, I still love him. . . I’ve never even looked at another man, but I don’t want that for you. You can’t spend the rest of your life waiting for somebody to come around when he might not. You’re seventeen, you have a whole life ahead of you to love and be loved in return. Don’t waste it Reese. Please.”

“It’s too late,” Teresa said. “I gave my heart to him when I was just a little girl. There’s no getting it back. Not now, not ever.”

Amy shook her head and pulled her into a hug. “Then I hope he sees what he’s missing out on one day. That one day he gives you his heart in return. Because you, my dearest Teresa, are one in a million and you deserve all the love in the world.”

**.**

“Oh come on Patrick, you’re twenty!” Angela said. “Don’t you think you’re a little too old to sit at the kid’s table?”

“I promised Teresa that as long as she was sitting here I’d sit here too,” Patrick answered. “You don’t want me to break my promise, do you?”

“Well. . . of course not, it’s just that. . .” Angela trailed off and looked at the kids, watching her like was the devil. “It’s just that. . . you both are a little too old to be sitting here.”

“Rules are rules,” Patrick answered, slinging his arm around Teresa’s chair. “But if you want to, you can go and sit at the adult table. Don’t let me stop you.”

“Oh grow up Patrick!” Angela said.

“Just go and sit with her,” Teresa told him quietly. “Don’t worry about me; this is my last year sitting at the kid’s table. I think I can handle it without you.”

“Teresa—”

“Just go,” Teresa said.

Angela shot a grateful look in her direction and tugged at Patrick’s sleeve. “Come on Patrick, your friend said it was okay. I really don’t want to sit here.”

“Teresa—” Patrick started again.

“Go,” she whispered. “We can catch up after dinner.”

Patrick sighed; he knew sitting with Angela at the adult table was probably the right thing to do. She was his guest, and completely out of her element. But at the same time, he hated breaking his promise to the beautiful, strong girl sitting next to him. She deserved better than that. He got up and wished that Angela had never asked to tag along with him.

“Teresa,” Murphy Posey, a ten-year-old black boy asked when the pair had left the table. “Why did you just let him go like that? He wanted to stay. . .”

Teresa sighed and watched as Patrick took a seat at the table with the rest of the grownups. “You’ll understand when you’re older,” she answered.

James Lisbon put his hand on her knee. “Reese—”

“Really guys, I’m fine!” She told them, putting her hands up in the air and smiling at them. “Let’s just eat and forget about it. Okay?”

The younger kids reluctantly agreed and dug into their meals, casting glances at her the whole night. None of them were used to seeing Teresa without Patrick. And there weren’t any jokes or magic tricks, none of the kids quite knew what to do with themselves. They were all quiet, all contemplating exactly what the new woman in the Minelli household meant.

The kids weren’t quite sure what it meant. But they knew it had caused Teresa to grow quieter, to play with her food and not engage with them like she usually did. And they knew they didn’t like it. They didn’t like it one bit.

**.**

“I just wanted the chance to talk to you before I had left in a few minutes,” Angela said, coming into the kitchen.

Teresa looked up from the mountain of dishes she was washing and nodded. “Okay.”

“I wanted to thank you. . . you know, for being such a good friend to Patrick. I know he appreciates it, that he even loves you for it. And I’m hoping one day that the two of us. . . you and me. . . could be friends as well. Maybe the way you’re friends with him.”

Teresa smiled and vigorously scrubbed a cookie sheet. “Angela, we can be friends if you want. But I don’t ever think that we’ll ever have the kind of friendship that I share with Patrick.”

Angela sighed. “I guess you don’t let just _anybody_ in, do you?”

“No,” Teresa answered honestly. “I’m really sorry. I just, I can’t afford to—”

Angela nodded. “I understand, I guess. I’ll just be going now. See you around Teresa.”

“See you around,” Teresa replied, smiling at the older girl.

A few minutes later, Patrick came into the kitchen and grabbed a towel from the stack by the stove. “Hey Reese,” he said.

Teresa’s face lit up. “Hey! I thought you’d already left. . . Angela said you were planning on leaving—”

“Dad and Aunt Amy took Angela home,” Patrick said. “I told them I’d be back later, we barely got a chance to spend time together tonight. And besides, who’s going to take you to mass tonight if I didn’t stay?”

“Well, I was planning on skipping it. . . you really shouldn’t leave your guest all alone,” Teresa answered.

“Angela will be fine,” Patrick assured her. “She’s probably on the phone with her boyfriend right about now. She’ll be sound asleep by the time I get back to my aunt’s house.”

“Well,” Teresa said. “I’m glad you stayed. I was so afraid we wouldn’t get to spend any time together this year.”

“I’d never let that happen!” Patrick told her as he started to dry dishes. “You know that Reese.”

Teresa released a breath and nodded, swiping the back of her hand across her cheek. “I know.”

“Oh! I have something for you,” Patrick said, slinging the towel over his shoulder and fishing through his pockets. “We stopped in a lot of towns that had beaches this season. I wanted you to have a piece of the beach.”

“We have beaches here—”

“Hardly,” Patrick answered, waiting for her to dry her hands on her apron before pressing the package into her hands. “Go on, open it.”

“Patrick, I-I don’t have anything for you.”

“So? I didn’t expect anything from you. I just wanted you to have something nice,” Patrick said. “Go on, open it.”

He’d brought her a puka shell bracelet. “Oh Patrick. . .” she trailed off.

Patrick took the bracelet back and picked up her wrist. “I was going to get a necklace, but I remembered you always wore the cross that your mother bought for you a few years ago. It didn’t seem right to replace it.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” Teresa whispered. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Patrick answered. “Merry Christmas Reese.”

And with that, she was sure that they’d be okay for one more year.

**TBC. . .**


	13. Comfort & Joy 2.0

Teresa opened the door after he had knocked once. She looked thinner, more tired than she had the year before. She was sporting a new scar in the corner of her eye and she looked years older. Patrick’s stomach twisted, he barely recognized her. But at the same time she was still the same girl that she had always been.

“Hey,” she said wearily, jerking him out of his thoughts.

“Hey,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over her a second time. “How are you?”

“How am I?” Teresa repeated, tapping her chin with her fingers for a moment and then she laughed. “How do you _think_ I’m doing?”

“I can’t even imagine. . .”

“My father’s dead,” she told him.

“I know,” Patrick said.

“He drank himself to death.” Teresa continued. “In the end, he always cared more about my mother than he cared about us. Her death should have brought us all closer together, but it only made him mean. It only made him long for something he could never have. And I hate him for it, I don’t even miss him!”

“I know.”

She caught a breath and rubbed her temples. “The night before he died, I came home from work and I found him screaming at James for practicing the piano too loudly. I thought he was going to hurt him, so I stepped between them. You know what happened then?”

Patrick shook his head, too afraid to ask but at the same time he needed to know more than anything. “No, what happened?”

Teresa yanked her sweater up and revealed a long, thin row of stitches. “This happened. He hated it that I was getting in the way of his ‘discipline’, so he decided to teach me a lesson. After he did, I told him exactly where to go, I told him to go to hell and to never come back. Even though he was coming to his senses and trying to apologize to me, trying to take to get me to get help. And you know what happened?”

“Yes,” he muttered.

“The next day one of his policemen friends showed up at the door and told me that my father had died from alcohol poisoning. And I knew it was my fault, I should have just put him to bed like the good girl I’m supposed to be. I should have just forgiven him and told him that everything was going to be okay. That we would work through this together. I should have just gone to the hospital and lied for him like I did a million times before—”

“No!” Patrick interjected loudly, his voice breaking through the quiet street. “No you shouldn’t have! Even if you did all those things, even if he didn’t die the cycle still would have continued. He would have still gone out and gotten drunk again, trying to disguise his own hurt. And he would have kept on hurting you. You know that.”

“I’ve told myself that a million times the past week, but I still feel guilty. Especially because I feel relieved that he’s gone, I don’t even miss him. Not even a little bit.”

“Oh baby,” Patrick said, the term of endearment slipped from his lips unbidden. He pulled her into his arms and held her close, wishing that he could stop her trembling, that he could take away all of the hurt from her world and make her whole again. He rubbed comforting circles into her back and whispered in her ear, “It’ll be okay. I’m here, I’m here. You’re safe now.”

Teresa released a deep breath and buried her face in his chest. “Why couldn’t he love us Patrick? He was supposed to love us, even more so because our mother was gone.”

“He just couldn’t see you. His own pain was too great Reese,” Patrick answered, pulling away from her and pushing her hair away from her face. “He was selfish, if he wasn’t then he would have seen how amazing you are and he would have never laid a finger on you. He would have never ever left you.”

“Everybody I love always leaves,” Teresa murmured.

“Hey,” Patrick whispered, hugging her again. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever. I promise.”

With those words, she broke down and started to cry uncontrollably. Somehow Patrick managed to get her into the house and close the door behind them. He held her until her sobs had ceased, then he wiped her eyes with his thumbs and kissed her forehead.

She sniffed. “Sorry for falling apart on you.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Are your brothers around?”

“No,” Teresa answered. “I sent them over to the Minelli’s house for dinner. I just wanted to be alone.”

“Oh. . .”

Their eyes met and she sighed. “But now that you’re here, I don’t want to be alone anymore. Not really.”

“I’ll stay then,” Patrick told her quietly.

“I’ll order a pizza or Chinese food,” Teresa said. “There’s nothing to eat in the house. Are you sure there isn’t anybody waiting for you over at the party?”

Patrick shook his head, pulled off his coat, draped it over the banister and followed her into the kitchen. “Angela’s skiinig with her boyfriend.”

Teresa pulled some takeout menus off of the fridge. “So, they’re still going strong then?”

“Very,” Patrick answered. “He spent the summer traveling with us. They were practically joined at the hip the whole time, it was disgusting.”

Teresa laughed and held up the menus. “Pizza or Chinese?”

Patrick shrugged. “You decide.”

“Chinese,” Teresa said. “The couple that owns the Chinese restaurant doesn’t celebrate Christmas, so they’re always open. The family that owns the pizza restaurant, well you can never count on them being open.”

Patrick leaned over her shoulder and studied the menu. “Then why did you even suggest ordering pizza?”

“Because, by some miracle they could have been open tonight,” Teresa answered, picking up the phone and dialing the Chinese food restaurant’s number. “Hey Emily, it’s Teresa. Yes, I’ll have the usual. No, not tonight. Tonight it’s dinner for two. No, he’s just a friend. No, no. . . _Emily_! Okay, yes. Sure, if he doesn’t have anything better to do and he wants to, I’d love for him to deliver. You too, have a good night.”

Patrick looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “That was interesting.”

“What?” Teresa asked, putting the phone back on the hook. “I’ve known Emily for years, she’s watched me grow up. Ever since I turned sixteen, she’s been waiting for me to get a boyfriend.”

“Ah,” Patrick said.

“Oh stop it,” Teresa answered, pulling down a couple of glasses from the cabinet and getting two Cokes from the fridge. “Ice?”

“Sure,” Patrick replied.

Teresa filled both glasses to the brim with ice and then poured the soda over it. She handed the glass to Patrick and held it up in a toast. “To good friends and to people who care about you more than anything in the world.”

“And to you,” Patrick added. “The most amazing girl in the whole entire world.”

Teresa blushed and clinked her glass against his before ducking her head and taking a sip. “Merry Christmas Patrick.”

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, taking a gulp of soda. “Hey, I don’t know if this is the time or place to mention this, but you do realize that today is the day that you get to join the adults at the adult table. And you’re missing out on it.”

“I know,” Teresa said. “But there’s always next year, isn’t there?”

“Will you be there next year?”

“I’m going to try and be there next year,” Teresa told him, putting her drink down.

“Good,” Patrick said. “Christmas Eve isn’t the same without you.”

“But that’s why you’re here with me right now,” Teresa replied. “Isn’t it?”

“I don’t want you to be alone,” Patrick answered. “And I hated the thought of having to wait two years to see you.”

Teresa was about to reply when there was a knock on the door. “I have to go and get that, it’s probably the Chinese.”

“Okay,” Patrick said.

A couple of seconds later, she returned with a large brown bag. “It was free of charge. A little Christmas present from Emily to me,” she told him as she got two plates and set them down on the table.

Patrick smiled and started to take the various food cartons out of the bag. “That was nice of her.”

They both sat down and Teresa started to serve up the food. When they both had generous portions of all the dishes, she took his hand in her’s and said a simple blessing over the meal.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, couldn’t believe that she still had faith after everything that she had been through in the past six years. Everything about her was sincere, it was enough to bowl him over and make him breathless. He barely registered her amen as he warred with himself. He couldn’t love her, not like _that_. She was his best friend, she was like his little sister. Falling for her would be wrong on so many levels!

“Hungry?” She asked, breaking into his thoughts as she released his hand and looked at him with a smile. Her beautiful smile.

Patrick could barely nod as he picked up her fork and started to eat rice without soy sauce.

Teresa laughed. “Patrick. You have my fork,” she said.

“Oh. . . sorry,” he handed her the fork by his plate. “Here, you can have mine.”

Teresa laughed again, after her tears earlier, it was like music to his ears. “Thank you,” she said.

Afterwards, she fished fudgesicles out from the back of the freezer, then led him to the living room. She flipped on the radio and then settled down on the couch while “Santa Baby” filled the air. Teresa made smalltalk and Patrick pretended that he wasn’t becoming incrediably attracted to the girl that he only saw one week out of the whole entire year.

After a while, she started to yawn. Patrick instinctively got up from off the floor and sat down beside her. He let her rest her head on his shoulder, listened to her while she continued to talk until the words faded on her lips and she was sound asleep. The rise and fall of her chest, the softness of her breathing eventually made him drowsy and even though he fought it with everything in him, he fell asleep too, holding her as close as he possibly could and trying not to think about how right it felt. 

**.**

James woke them up the next morning, a goofy smile on his face as he poked and prodded them with his fingers.

Teresa was embarrassed that they’d be caught asleep together. Patrick didn’t mind so much, it wasn’t the first time they’d fallen asleep together on a Christmas Eve. And he was almost certain that it wouldn’t be the last time either.

After James had left them alone, Teresa collected herself and smiled at him. “Do you want to stay for breakfast?”

“I want to,” Patrick answered. “But James. . .”

Teresa made a face. “Yeah, James. He’s a sixteen-year-old boy.”

“And you don’t want to become a story that he tells in the locker room,” Patrick told her. “His friends would never look at you the same way if he tells them that we—”

“That we _what_?” Teresa asked. “We’ve fallen asleep together a dozen times since we met. It’s everything innocent Patrick. James is. . . he knows that we’re just friends, that nothing happened. He likes to tease me, that’s all. He won’t say anything to anyone, I swear.”

Patrick swept his thumb underneath her eye. “Your mascara’s running.”

Teresa frowned and scrubbed at her face, flicking dry mascara from her fingers. “Thanks,” she said dryly. “So, are you going to stay or not?”

He sighed and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

When breakfast was over, Patrick helped clean the kitchen up and then Teresa walked him to the door. They stood on the porch for a few minutes just staring at each other, everything in him screamed to lean in and kiss her like he had that Christmas two years ago. Instead, he ignored the feeling and brushed his lips against her forehead.

“See you later Teresa,” he whispered against her skin, praying that she wouldn’t be able to hear the way his heart was beating out of his chest.

Teresa closed her eyes against his touch. “Merry Christmas,” she replied.

When he let her go, he felt a little emptier without her in his arms. And he hated himself for it, felt guilty that what he was feeling towards her was less than brotherly. He’d give it the entire week, he decided. If his feelings for her weren’t gone by the time he had to leave Chicago then he would decide where to go from there.

Patrick took the steps two at a time and then turned around to look at Teresa. She was still there, watching him go. He raised his hand and waved at her, she smiled and waved back.

It took everything in him not to turn around and spend the rest of the day with her.

**TBC. . .**


	15. A Wedding & Not Brother/Sister

_One Year Later_

“I can’t believe you actually pulled it off,” Teresa said, smoothing out Patrick’s bowtie. “I can’t believe your father and your aunt are actually _married_!”

“I’m just that good,” Patrick answered, catching her hands in his and holding onto them tightly.

“They look happy,” Teresa replied.

“That’s because they _are_ happy. I don’t know why they didn’t get together sooner.”

“Maybe because you didn’t know about it sooner?” Teresa suggested.

“I can’t believe that I didn’t notice it sooner!”

“Well, you aren’t _really_ a mind reader Patrick, and sometimes people are just that good at keeping secrets!” Teresa told him.

Patrick gave her a peeved look and then released her hands. “Come on, I want to see the cake that May made for my aunt and my father. I hear that it’s a sight to behold.”

“It really is something,” Teresa agreed. “It took us three days to make it.”

“May actually let you help with something besides cutting cookies out and washing dishes?” Patrick teased.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a very responsible person and that May _trusts_ me with things.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t trust you with big things like Christmas dinner or a wedding cake.”

Teresa rolled her eyes. “Do you want to see the cake or not Patrick? Because right now I am the only other person in this whole entire world who knows exactly where May hid it.”

“Are you going to let me sample the frosting?” Patrick asked

“No!” Teresa answered. “I know for a fact that May will notice if you try to steal frosting off the cake, Joseph actually already did it with disastrous results.”

“He took frosting off the cake?”

“Directly off the cake!” Teresa answered. “May banished him from the house for the rest of the week. It was so funny, he actually thought she meant that he was banned from the wedding and Christmas Eve. It took me forever to get him into a suit and over here tonight.”

Patrick laughed. “May is _that_ scary?”

“When she wants to be,” Teresa told him as she led him to the stairs. “Come on, she hid it in Virgil’s study because nobody’s allowed to go upstairs.”

“Are you really willing to risk May’s wrath over my seeing the cake?” Patrick teased.

“She’s busy with the wedding guests and getting Christmas Eve dinner ready, she won’t notice if we’re gone for five minutes.”

“Until she needs us to cut out the cookies or something,” he said.

“That’s not going to happen,” she answered. “We got mostly everything done in the days leading up to Christmas Eve because May said that we’d be too busy with the wedding perpetrations to fully concentrate on pulling together a full meal.”

“Did you pre-peel and mash the potatoes too?”

Teresa glared at him. “No,” she replied.

Patrick laughed. “You should see the look on your face Reese! It’s _priceless_.”

“Oh, shut up!” Teresa said as she opened a door, ushered him in, and pointed to a three-tiered wedding cake. “Well, there it is.”

“Wow!” Patrick exclaimed as he took in the silvery cake that included a topper that was of a couple sitting by a fireplace. “I know I’ve said this before, but May is _incredible_.”

“I know!” Teresa replied. “She was inspired to make the cake from a line in the song “Winter Wonderland”.”

“What line?” Patrick asked.

“ _Later on we’ll conspire as we dream by the fire, to face unafraid the plans that we made walking in a winter wonderland_. Because, you know, they got engaged on Christmas day. . .”

“It’s perfect,” Patrick told her. “I think that they’re going to love it.”

“It was mostly May’s doing,” Teresa answered. “All I did was mix the cake batter and follow her directions on how to make the frosting. It was _all_ May.”

“Well, I still like it a—”

“You two know that you aren’t supposed to be up here! This isn’t the first time you’ve had Christmas Eve at our house!”

Patrick and Teresa whirled around and saw Virgil standing in the doorway looking at them with a look of mock sternness, his eyes were dancing.

“What are _you doing_ up here?” Teresa asked boldly. “You say that you never come up here on Christmas Eve because you want to be a good example to the kids.”

“I came to get the cake,” Virgil answered. He beamed at them. “So, what are you two doing up here anyways? Looking for a place to make out without any interruptions?”

_“No!”_ Teresa and Patrick chorused together, their cheeks flushing bright red.

“We were just looking at the cake,” Teresa replied. “We were going to come _right_ down.”

“I’m sure,” Virgil said, smiling at them like he knew something that they didn’t. “Oh well, you two better get downstairs before May starts to look for you. I’d hate to find out what happens when she finds out that you were upstairs _and_ making out.”

“We weren’t making out!” Teresa protested as Patrick dragged her from the study and down the stairs.

“He’s just teasing you,” he soothed. “He knows that we weren’t making out. He probably thinks that we’re like brother and sister more than anything.”

Teresa looked at him strangely. “Brother and sister?” she repeated.

_Please buy it_ , he prayed. _Please._

“Yes,” he answered aloud. “Brother and sister.”

Teresa frowned. “Brother and sister.”

“Brother and sister—” Patrick replied, ignoring the look of disappointment on her face as the words sank in. He _needed_ her to believe that they were like brother and sister; _he_ needed to believe it or he was going to start doing and saying things they both would regret.

“I’m going to see if May needs help with anything in the kitchen,” Teresa said.

“But I thought you said everything was already prepared.”

“She might need help putting the food in serving dishes or something,” she answered.

“Then I’ll come with you—”

“No! You stay here, tonight is just as much about you as it is your father and aunt. There are people who’ll want to see you.”

“Wait a second,” Patrick said, grabbing her wrist. “Pete and Sam still want to meet you. They’re in the living room. It’ll only take a second—”

Teresa pulled away. “I’ll meet them later.”

“Teresa, did I say something to upset you?” Patrick asked.

“No,” Teresa lied. “No you could never upset me, Patrick. I just need to see if May needs help. I’ll talk to you later.”

“You know, the two of you _aren’t_ at all like brother and sister!” Joseph Lisbon said, popping out of nowhere.

Patrick blanched. “You shouldn’t be eavesdropping in on people’s _personal_ conversations, Joey.” 

“I wasn’t eavesdropping on purpose,” Joseph retorted. “But you two aren’t like brother and sister, not at all. She doesn’t look at me or my brothers the way that she looks at _you_. And you don’t look at her the way my brothers look at her. Just because I’m twelve, it doesn’t mean that I’m stupid. You _like_ her, you like her a lot!”

“Joseph, go bother somebody else.”

“Why are you so afraid to admit that you like her?” Joseph asked.

He gave him a look that said the subject was closed. But the younger boy apparently didn’t get the hint because he followed him around and persisted to insist he knew what was really going on between his sister and Patrick.

Finally Patrick turned around and huffed impatiently. “Okay, so _maybe_ I _do_ like your sister. But even if I did, nothing could happen because everybody else thinks we’re like brother and sister.”

“I’ve been around this place for a while, I’ve heard the whispers. Nobody in this whole entire neighborhood thinks you’re like _brother and sister_ ,” Joseph said, saying brother and sister like they were bad words that he wasn’t supposed to use.

“Okay,” Patrick said. “Even if they don’t think we’re like brother and sister, there’s still the potential that if we start something, it won’t work out. And then I would have ruined the best friendship that I’ve ever had.”

“Nobody thinks that you’ll ruin the friendship,” Joseph told him. “Everybody around here actually says that you’ll be one of the couples that make it. Hey, I’m young, people never notice when I’m around.”

“Do people actually have a pool on _when_ we’re going to get together or do they just enjoy discussing our love lives?” Patrick asked.

“They tried to put money on when you’d get together, but Mrs. Minelli stopped them from doing it. She says that you shouldn’t bet on relationships. So, now that you’ve realized you aren’t like brother and sister, when are you going to kiss her?”

“I’m not,” Patrick replied. “It has to be something that she wants to, and I’m not even sure that she wants to be more than friends.”

“Oh, she wants to. I’m surprised you haven’t been picking up on any of the signals she’s been sending you since she was sixteen.”

“How would _you_ know about signals?” Patrick asked him.

“I told you, I _hear_ things!” Joseph answered. _“Geez.”_

Patrick wasn’t used to people telling it to him straight, _especially_ when the people was his best friend’s twelve-year-old, little brother. He gaped at him like a fish and then crossed his arms across his chest. “Hasn’t anybody ever told you not to be such a busybody Joe?”

“Sure,” Joseph replied easily. “Reese tells me not to be a busybody _all_ of the time!”

Patrick pressed his lips together, trying to be as nice as possible. “Then, I strongly suggest you do it right now.”

Joseph looked surprised for a minute and then he shrugged. “Okay Patrick. I’m going to go back in the living room and watch _White Christmas_ with the rest of the kids.”

_That’s where you should have been the_ WHOLE _time_ , Patrick thought to himself as he watched Joseph run back to the living room and join Ruby Mae on the floor.

“Dinner’s ready,” Teresa told him, coming out of the kitchen with a large bowl of steaming mashed potatoes.

“Here,” Patrick said coming over to her and holding out his hands. “Let me take that for you.”

“Okay,” Teresa agreed, relinquishing the bowl to him. “I’m going to go and get the biscuits. I’ll see you in a minute.”

**.**

Teresa was putting the biscuits into a basket when Amy came into the kitchen, her wedding dress taking up the whole room.

She smiled when she saw the bride and stopped doing what she was doing. “Amy, you shouldn’t be in here! Something might get on your dress and ruin it!”

“It’ll be fine,” Amy replied, waving the younger girl off. “I needed to tell you something, something private.”

Teresa’s heart sped up for a moment and she could only imagine what was coming next. Everything in her screamed that it had to do with Patrick and Angela. Her first instinct was to cover her ears and run away; instead she nodded and started to scoop more biscuits into the basket with a spatula. “Okay,” she said.

“I wanted to tell you _not_ to give up on Patrick,” Amy said. “Sooner or later, he’s going to realize what’s right in front of him. That the two of you are more than just good friends, and then—”

Teresa shook his head. “No. No, he won’t. He told me tonight that we’re just like brother and sister. He doesn’t see me as anything more than a little girl, his friend.”

“Oh honey, I’m sure that’s not true!” Amy told her. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It isn’t like a brother looks at his sister. I don’t understand what he’s talking about—”

The door swung open and Alex came into the kitchen. “There you two are! Everything’s ready to go except for the biscuits and the bride. Are you coming or not?”

Amy smiled prettily at him. “We’ll be right there Alex, we were just having a chat.”

Understanding dawned on Alex’s face. “Oh! _Oh_! Well, whenever you’re ready then!”

“We’re ready now,” Teresa answered, holding the basketful of biscuits up. “Come on, we don’t have much time to waste. You wouldn’t want to miss your flight.”

**.**

Patrick watched Teresa all through dinner, Joseph’s words played in his head on repeat. _You’re not brother and sister. . . you’re not brother and sister._ He knew that the boy was right; he and Teresa weren’t like brother and sister. _Not at all._ But even though that that one lie was gone, there was still something stopping him from acting out on his burgeoning feelings for his best friend. He just couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what it was exactly.

**TBC. . .**


	16. Annabeth & Charlotte

Teresa leaned down and nuzzled her niece’s nose gently, laughing with delight when Annabeth looked up at her and smiled. 

“What a lovely picture the two of you make!”

Teresa looked up, her grin widening when she saw Patrick looking at her, his own arms filled with child. “You’re here!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and embracing him tightly.

“I’m here,” he answered, giving her an awkward hug. “It’s so good to see your face. I’ve missed you so much, Reese.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Teresa replied, looking down at the bundle in his arms. “Is this Charlotte?”

Patrick nodded and removed the blanket from her face. “Yes. This is the little girl somebody had the nerve to abandon at the carnival. Isn’t she the most beautiful baby that you’ve ever seen?”

“She’s gorgeous, but she just might have some competition,” Teresa answered, going over and lifting her niece up. “This is Annabeth, Tommy and Tiffany’s daughter.”

“So, Tiffany finally found a way to hook Tommy for good then?” Patrick asked.

“Hardly,” Teresa replied. “A month after Annabeth was born; Tiffany took off without a word. The next day, I woke up and Tommy was gone too. All that he left for me was a note telling me where he was going and Annabeth. Joseph has been trying to help me with her, but he’s only thirteen. He has friends and a life that he needs to live. I do not want him to have to grow up before his time. Not like—”

“Not like you,” Patrick finished for her as he shifted Charlotte from one arm to the next.

“Right,” Teresa answered. “So, I encourage him to go to school and to be with his friends as much as possible. My college runs a daycare and I usually drop Annie off there, but I’m thinking about taking this semester off. . . Tiffany and Tommy should be back soon, and then I can concentrate on my life.”

“Aside from Joey, you shouldn’t have to put your life on hold for your brothers anymore. You’ve done your part, they need to take responsibility for their own lives now!”

“And do _what_ exactly? Finally accept Greg’s offer for a date?” Teresa asked.

Patrick paused and frowned. “Wait, who’s _Greg_!?”

“He’s just a guy who goes to my school. What does it matter to _you_ anyways!?” Teresa replied.

“It doesn’t!” Patrick lied. “I just want to make sure you aren’t going out with a loser. . .”

“I’m not going out with anybody!” Teresa told him. “Greg only _wishes_ that we were dating, but between school, Annabeth, Joseph and worrying about you, I’m too busy for boys!”

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Patrick said. “I’m perfectly fine.”

Teresa shook her head. “Oh Patrick, we both know that’s not true. You’re still pretending to be the Boy Wonder seven nights a week, even though you absolutely hate it. You’d much rather be here with your father and your aunt. And on top of all that, Angela is practically engaged to some other guy. Of course I worry about you.”

“I’ll have you know Teresa that I’ve been over Angela for a while now. And another thing is—”

“Yes?” Teresa asked breathlessly.

“Never mind,” Patrick replied.

**.**

“I can’t wait for them to get their act together and finally get together,” May said to Amy as they let the kitchen door swing shut and got on with finishing Christmas dinner. “I know they’re in love, I just wish they could see it.”

“They do,” Amy replied. “Teresa is too busy to do anything about it and Patrick is scared.”

“Scared?” May repeated, frowning. “What do you mean he’s _scared_? The boy that we’re talking about performs in front of dozens of strangers all summer.”

“Well,” Amy said, starting to roll out the sugar cookie dough. “He’s scared that if they start something then it won’t work out, and he doesn’t want to ruin the good thing he already has with her. It makes sense if you think about it.”

“Oh it really does,” May agreed. “But I think that they have a good foundation for the best kind of romantic relationship.”

“Well, you would know better than anybody else. Wouldn’t you? How long were you friends with Virgil before he asked you out?”

“Too long,” May answered. “But I think the same thing goes for you, how long were _you_ friends with Alex before he woke up and realized that he was in love with you?”

“The three of us are all a little crazy, aren’t we, being friends with a man while we pretend that we’re not madly in love with them?”

“I don’t think we’re crazy,” May replied, grinning at Amy. “The men in our life came around eventually, didn’t they? And like you said, even Patrick will come around eventually and then we’ll have another wedding to plan.”

They spent the rest of the night daydreaming about what would happen after Patrick and Teresa finally got together, and what the pair’s life together would look like.

**.**

“So, how much longer do you think you have with the carnival?” Teresa asked.

“Not much,” Patrick replied as he tried to feed Charlotte a bottle and eat his dinner at the same time. “I want to get out a little sooner actually. I’m planning on keeping Charlie, and I want her to have a stable life. I’ve come to realize that life on a road isn’t much of a life for a kid. You know?”

“I don’t,” Teresa answered, gazing at him. “You spent most of _your_ life traveling and I think you turned out perfectly fine.”

“ _I_ don’t want the kind of life where I’m living out of a trailer and playing shows every night. I don’t think that I ever did, I just didn’t know it until I found Charlotte. . . no, I knew it sooner than that.”

“When?” Teresa asked breathlessly. “When did you realize that you didn’t want to live out of a trailer?”

Patrick met her gaze and shrugged, a dozen different lies playing on his tongue. None of them sounded good, even in his head. “It was a long time ago, I-I don’t remember.”

Teresa knew that he was lying, he remembered _exactly_ when he knew that he wanted more than the open road and an audience of women who adored him. But she didn’t press him for details, she knew he’d share the information with her when he was ready. He always did.

“Here,” she said, switching Annabeth to her other arm. “You eat and I’ll hold Charlotte, okay?”

“Thanks,” Patrick answered, relinquishing the baby gratefully. “After I’m done, I’ll hold Annabeth and Charlotte so you can eat your dinner.”

Teresa nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Patrick said, smiling at her. “We make a good team, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Teresa agreed quietly, wondering why he saying something like that but not voicing her thoughts aloud. “We make a _great_ team.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Patrick answered. “Teresa, I—”

“Do you mind if we steal the babies from you two?” Amy asked, she and May smiled down at the pair.

“Of course not,” Patrick replied. “Teresa needs to eat too.” 

“We know,” May said. “That’s why we came over here. That and to give you two a chance to catch up without any _little_ interruptions.”

A few seconds later, both Amy and May were gone again, and the two friends had been left in peace.

“So, what were you going to say before we were interrupted?” Teresa asked, taking a bite of her potatoes.

“Oh. . .” Patrick trailed off. “It was nothing, nothing at all. Forget I even said anything.”

“Okay,” Teresa agreed. “So, I’m assuming that you’re spending the night at your aunt and father’s house tonight?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said. “That’s where all Charlotte’s stuff if, but I talked to Aunt Amy about it and she said that you and Joey are more than welcome to come over and spend the day with us tomorrow.”

Teresa nodded. “I think we could manage that. What time would you want us to be there?”

“I think she said in time to open presents,” Patrick answered. “She has a few things for all three of you.”

She blushed. “Well, she didn’t have to do that. . .”

“I think she did it because she _wanted_ to. Come on Reese, when was the last time you had a real Christmas? A Christmas where it was actually about you and not just your brothers?”

“Well—”

“Don’t say anything about me,” Patrick told her. “When I come here, it’s for me. Sometimes I think I wouldn’t be able to get through the year without seeing you. So, when was the last time Christmas was about you?”

“Probably when I was eleven,” Teresa answered truthfully.

“That was ten years ago Reese. It’s time that it was about you again, even if it is just for this year.”

“I-I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” Teresa said.

“Just show up and let Aunt Amy take care of everything else, even if it just for this year.”

“Okay,” she finally agreed, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

**TBC. . .**

**.**


	17. Every Kiss Is A Cursive Line

_One Year Later_

“Guess who!” A voice whispered in her ear as a pair of masculine hands covered her eyes.

A thin layer of goose bumps covered her arms, Teresa would have known his touch and his voice anywhere. She’d memorized them a long time ago. “Patrick. . .” she said breathlessly. “I-I thought you weren’t going to be able to come this year.”

“I had a change in plans,” Patrick answered, spinning her around to give her a hug. “So, here I am.”

“A change of plans?” Teresa repeated, looking up at him. “Is Charlotte with you?”

“Aunt Amy has her,” Patrick replied. “Yeah, I had a change of plans. I changed my plans so I could be here with you tonight. I realized last week that Christmas just wouldn’t be the same without you. And so, here I am.”

“Here you are,” Teresa said, touching his face. “Are you for real?”

“I’ve done crazier things than change my plans to be with you for the holidays,” Patrick told her.

“Oh yeah? Like _what_?” Teresa asked.

“Just things,” Patrick answered. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.”

They were still locked in an embrace, but neither of them noticed it, neither of them really wanted to let go of each other. She sighed in contentment and hugged him again.

“Either way, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” he agreed softly, framing her face with his hands and leaning in towards her.

Their lips were just about to meet when they were interrupted by May and Amy.

“There you two are!” Amy said, hitching Charlotte further up her hip. “Dinner’s on the table, are you coming to eat or not?”

_Not,_ Teresa answered in her head. _Not right now. . ._

But Patrick apparently had other ideas, he had released her and was following them into the dining room. Teresa sighed and trailed after them, trying not to wish that he had been able to finish what he had started. But for the first time since she had met him, she wasn’t able to fight off the disappointment that was welling up inside of her.

**.**

After dinner was finished and the kitchen was cleaned up, Patrick found Teresa sitting on the stairs in the dark.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine. Though, I’m beginning to think that. . .” Teresa trailed off and sighed.

“Beginning to think _what_?” Patrick whispered, gently touching her dark hair with his fingertips.

“Nothing,” Teresa answered, closing her eyes at his touch. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Really?” Patrick replied, brushing his lips against her temple.

Teresa released a shuddery breath. “Really.”

“I don’t believe you,” Patrick said, puncturing each word carefully as his lips found her brow bone, her cheek. “Just tell me what it is, maybe I can help and fix it.”

“I-I can’t just tell you what it is,” Teresa replied, losing her train of thought as he kissed every inch of her face. “What are you doing?”

“Memorizing you,” he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the whole entire world.

“Memorizing me?”

“Memorizing you,” Patrick repeated.

And then his lips found her’s. For a moment, the only thing Teresa could hear was the sound of her heart beating in her ears. She prayed that she wasn’t dreaming. That she wouldn’t wake up when they got to the best part.

But it wasn’t a dream, it was real and true and better than she could have ever imagined it to be. It was better than the first time he had kissed her, this time he meant it. He wasn’t just kissing her so her first kiss could be special. He was kissing her the way a man kissed a woman. He was kissing her like a man in love.

She pulled away from him, touched his lips with her fingers and looked into his eyes. “Patrick. . .”

“Reese. . .” He whispered back, kissing her again.

“What about Angela?”

“I told you. . . I’ve been over Angela for a while now. I fell in love with you after your father died. Except I think I had always loved you and I just realized it then.”

“Patrick, you don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that. For you to. . . to notice me.”

Patrick pushed her hair away from her face and then rested his forehead against hers. “You, my dear, have the patience of a saint. You weren’t even sure that I’d ever come around.”

“Oh, I was sure that you’d fall in love with me eventually. It was just a matter of where and when,” Teresa answered, tilting her head and kissing him again.

He smiled against her lips. “So, this is what requited love feels like. Who knew it could be so, so—”

“Wonderful!” Teresa finished for him. “Requited love is _wonderful_.”

“Yeah,” Patrick agreed. “Yeah, it is.”

“What are you two doing holed up on the staircase?” May asked, startling them so badly that they pulled apart frantically.

“Nothing!” They chorused together, exchanging glances.

May smiled at them knowingly. “Well if you want to join us, we’re just about to have dessert.”

“Okay,” Teresa answered, wanting to stay hidden in the shadows with Patrick for as long as possible.

“We’ll be right there,” Patrick added.

“I’ll save you both a piece of pecan pie,” May said. “But if you aren’t at the dining room table in five minutes, all bets are off.”

“We better hurry,” Patrick whispered when May was gone. “I think she’s serious about giving our pie away after five minutes.”

Teresa nodded, “Oh, she is. Believe me, she is.”

He got to his feet and then took her hand, lifting her up with little effort at all. He tangled his fingers with her’s and smiled at her. “Come on,” he whispered.

When they entered the dining room, everybody’s eyes were on them. Teresa guessed that May had already spread the word about them. She didn’t mind though, these people had literally watched them grow up. Most of the ladies at the table had been cheering for her and Patrick since the day they had first been introduced. And even though she would have liked to tell them in her own time, they deserved to know.

**.**

Patrick went to mass with her and Joseph, and then he walked them home. After her younger brother had gone into the house, they stood on the porch with their arms around each other.

“Teresa,” he whispered. “I just want you to know that I’m planning on coming back soon.”

“You are?” She asked, her heart slamming against her ribcage.

“Yeah,” Patrick answered. “I’m going to court you properly. No more postcards or weekly phone calls, I want dinner dates and movies, and holding hands under the table during Sunday dinner. I want to go with you to mass, I want to take you dancing, and I want to kiss you goodnight. Does that sound good to you?”

“Yes,” Teresa breathed. “Yes, it does.”

He kissed her languidly. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow darling, sweet dreams.”

“Sweet dreams Patrick,” Teresa replied, watching him as he went down the steps.

When she couldn’t see him anymore, she turned around and went into the house feeling like she was floating on a cloud.

**TBC. . .**


	18. You Love Me

**Chapter 18 You Love Me**

_One Year Later_

Patrick was drawing patterns on her shoulder, causing her to have trouble concentrating on the mashed potatoes.

“Stop it!” Teresa said, pushing his hand away. “You’re distracting me.”

“Well, stop being so distracting then!” Patrick replied, stealing a kiss.

“Go check on Charlotte and Annabeth,” Teresa told him, pushing him away with her hip.

“Joey’s with them,” Patrick answered.

“Well, go and check on Joey then! I’ll be right there,” Teresa said. “I just need to finish up here, I cannot believe that May actually entrusted me with the mashed potatoes this year.”

“It’s just mashed potatoes—”

With that final sentence, Patrick found himself promptly kicked out of Teresa’s kitchen. He meandered into the living room and sat down on the floor next to Joseph.

“Did she kick you out too?” Joseph asked, patting Charlotte on the tummy and smiling at his sister’s boyfriend.

“She said that I was distracting her,” Patrick answered. “And then I had to go and say that all she was doing was mashed potatoes.”

Joseph laughed. “But it isn’t _just_ mashed potatoes, not to Reese anyways. These mashed potatoes probably mean she’s finally one of the girls, or something like that.”

Patrick nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m actually kind of glad that we’re alone. I have to ask you something. . .”

“Yeah?” Joseph asked.

“I’ve been with your sister for a while now and I was just wondering if you’d mind—”

“No!” He interjected. “I don’t mind _at all_! And I don’t think my other brothers would either, we all like you a lot Patrick.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to ask,” Patrick told him.

“Maybe not, but I have a pretty good idea. Especially because of the way you started. You are planning on proposing, right?”

“Yes,” Patrick answered.

“Well then, I would _love_ for you to be my brother-in-law!” Joseph grinned and slapped him on the back. “Welcome to the family.”

“She hasn’t said yes yet!” Patrick reminded him.

“Oh, but she’s going to!” Joseph answered. “Just you wait and see. She’s crazy about you, she’s _always_ been crazy about you.”

“I’m glad we had this talk,” Patrick said, smiling at him.

“So, when do you think you’ll propose?” Joseph asked.

“Well, I was thinking about tonight. We met eighteen years ago tonight, we got together a year ago tonight. It seems like the only logical thing to do, don’t you think?”

“And you get points for remembering two other important events in your lives,” Joseph pointed out. “Yes, I think tonight would be the most perfect time to propose. Where you are going to do it?”

“Right in front of the spot where we first met,” Patrick answered.

“Are you going to do it in front of everybody?” Joseph asked.

“Do you think she’d really like that?” Patrick asked.

“Well, it isn’t like it’s in front of a bunch of strangers at a Cubs game. It’s just her friends, family, and the neighbors. We’re the people who care about and want what’s best for the both of you. I really don’t think she’d mind if everybody that she loved was there. Not really anyways.”

Patrick released a breath and nodded. “Okay. Wish me luck, okay Joey?”

Joseph patted him on the back. “Good luck, but I wouldn’t worry about it too much. I’m _sure_ that she’s going to say yes.”

**.**

Teresa was barely out of her coat when Patrick dragged her into the living room.

“Patrick, what are you doing?” She asked, frowning at him.

“Do you know where we’re standing?” He replied.

Teresa frowned and shook her head. “No. Why?”

“Eighteen years ago today, I met you for the first time in this _exact_ spot and you quickly became the best friend I’ve ever had. Tonight, I’d like to make a new anniversary,” Patrick answered, getting down on one knee. “Teresa Lisbon, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

Teresa looked at him wordlessly and then everything came rushing out at once. “Are you sure? We’ve only been together for a year. I still have to take care of Joey, and sometimes Annabeth—”

“Yes,” Patrick interjected. “I’m sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you. True, we’ve only been together for a year, but I know you better than people who have been together as couple longer than us. I have Charlotte, and I love Joey like he’s my own brother. I love Annabeth like she’s my own niece. I know there will be complications sometimes. I know we’ll be the strangest kind of blended family, but I don’t care. I love your family, I love _you_. . . I want to spend the rest of my life with you. With _all_ of you if I have to, please marry me.”

Teresa knelt down in front of him and framed his face with her hands. She looked into his eyes and nodded. “I will,” she whispered, kissing him gently.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” she answered.

And then, the whole living room was filled with applause. The pair looked up to see all of their friends and family standing in the threshold, smiling at them. The kids charged towards them screaming and showering them with tight hugs.

 _“Finally,”_ Virgil mouthed at Patrick, clapping the loudest out of anybody.

Patrick laughed and wrestled the kids away and then he helped Teresa up off of the floor. He slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed her soundly on the lips causing everybody surrounding the room to cheer loudly.

And all Teresa could do was laugh, her heart was swelling with so much happiness, she thought she was going to die from it all.

**.**

_Seven years later. . ._

“When you’re eighteen, you can sit at the adult’s table,” Patrick told his daughter. “But right now you have to sit at the kid’s table. Okay—”

 _“But daddy—!”_ Six-year-old Ruth Jane started to whine.

“No ifs, ands, or buts!” Patrick said firmly. “Those are the rules. They were the rules when your mother and I were kids, and they’re the rules now. The adult table will still be there in twelve years. Now be a good girl, or Santa might now show up tonight.”

“Yes daddy,” Ruth said meekly, not bothering to hide that she was still unhappy about sitting with the other kids.

“You better not pout,” Charlotte told her sternly. “Santa Claus doesn’t like that.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth chimed in, smirking at her cousin. “You better _not_ pout Ruthie or I’m sure the only thing you’ll be getting is _coal_.”

Ruth glared at her. “I will _NOT_!!!! DADDY MAKE ANNABETH STOP! She’s being _mean_!”

“Ruth, use your _indoor_ voice!” Patrick admonished her. “Annie, stop teasing your cousin or you might end up with mashed potatoes in your hair.”

Annabeth bit back a grin. “Okay, Uncle Patrick.”

Patrick turned to Ruth. “ _You_ , you better be _nice_ and cheerful.”

“I don’t want to be nice and—”

“What’s going on here?” Teresa asked, coming in and frowning at her daughter. “Are you being disagreeable again?”

“No,” Ruth answered crossly. “I am _not_ being disagreeable, mommy.”

“Really?” Teresa asked, glancing at Annabeth and Charlotte. “Because I could have sworn that you were being disagreeable just now.”

Ruth shot daggers at her mother. “It’s just, I don’t understand why I can’t sit with the grownups at _their_ table!”

“Charlotte and Annabeth can’t sit at the adult’s table yet, do you hear _them_ complaining?”

“No,” Ruth muttered sullenly.

Teresa knew that she had her daughter there. If there was one thing Ruth wanted more than anything in the world, it was to be exactly like her cousin and stepsister. “So, do you think you could cheer up just a little, tiny bit?” she asked.

Ruth huffed and rolled her eyes. “I guess so.”

Teresa smiled. “Good. Now, daddy and I are going to get your dinner. We better see a cheerful Ruthie by the time we get back. Okay?”

“Fine.”

“Ruthie,” Teresa said seriously. “The only response is, _yes ma’am_.”

“Yes ma’am,” Ruth parroted back, still looking entirely cross.

“Come on Ruthie,” Charlotte said, poking her gently in the side. _“Smile!”_

“Yeah!” Annabeth joined in. “Smile Ruthie, nobody should be this grumpy at Christmas.”

It took a few minutes, but Ruth finally relented and offered them a smile.

Charlotte grinned. “There’s my pretty little sister. “

“You know, sitting at the kid’s table isn’t so bad Ruth,” Annabeth said. “We don’t have to listen to all the boring grown up talk. And you hate boring grown up talk more than anybody I know.”

Ruth wrinkled her nose, it _was_ true. Grownup’s conversations were usually very boring. “I guess you’re right,” she conceded.

“Our turn to sit at the grownup’s table will come eventually,” Charlotte promised, patting her hand. “Right now, we should just enjoy being kids. Daddy says that it doesn’t last forever.”

“Come on, I think that she’ll be okay. Annie and Charlie will distract her, and her bad mood will soon be forgotten,” Patrick whispered to Teresa, taking her hand in his and leading her away from the kid’s table.

Teresa nodded in agreement. She pulled him onto the staircase, out of earshot from the kids and the other guests. “I have something to tell you.”

 “What?”

She smiled at him, stood on tip-toe to kiss him, and then she put his hand on her flat stomach. “We’re going to have another baby, Patrick.”

Patrick looked at her, his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

Teresa nodded. “Positive, I took the test this morning. Are you. . . are you happy?”

“Yes,” Patrick answered, leaning in and kissing her softly. Then he wrapped her up in his arms and hugged her tightly. “You don’t know just how happy I really am.”

“I think I have a guess,” she told him, closing her eyes and kissing him again. “You’re probably just as happy as I am right now.”

“That’s impossible,” Patrick replied breathlessly. “Don’t you know? Can’t you see it? You’ve been making me the happiest person on the whole earth these past twenty-three years. Thank you Reese, thank you for loving me all of this time and never giving up on me.”

Teresa smiled at him. “And thank you for loving _me_ all of this time, for coming back even when you didn’t have to and for being my friend when I needed one.”

“Just returning the favor,” Patrick whispered, kissing her again and again, not caring that dinner was on the table or that there was a roomful of people just a couple of feet away.

It had been twenty-three years and he still couldn’t get enough of her.

**_The End_**


End file.
